From Friend and Foe Alike
by Imorgen
Summary: Severus Snape has one purpose in life—to protect the girl who lived.  When Dumbledore puts the greater good ahead of the child's welfare, however, his resolve is tested as never before.  And, as a new prophecy is given, will old prejudices be his undoing?
1. What Dreams May Come

Author's Notes - Hi! First of all, if you've discovered this story through an author alert, rest assured that I am working on the sequel to Careless Benevolence. In fact, I'm also writing a prequel to The Emissary that takes place during the Time War. So, if you were expecting a Doctor Who story, please give me a week or two to decide which one to post first.

I originally joined FF in order to broaden my horizons, but I honestly never expected to be writing a Harry Potter story. However, the character of Severus Snape has always intrigued me, and this is the result. The story revolves around the aftermath of a sexual assault, thereby earning its Teen rating. And, it's obviously AU, since James and Lily's child is a girl named Rose, not a boy named Harry. Feel free to let me know what you think.

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><p>Severus Snape sat brooding in his Potions classroom. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore had cancelled exams as a treat for students after Miss Potter had managed to open the Chamber of Secrets, rescue Ronald Weasley, kill a basilisk and defeat a very not dead Voldemort yet again. It was enough to give him a piercing headache. He had no idea what the Headmaster expected O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. level students to do. It wasn't as if they could postpone their exams. It was bad enough the younger students weren't being given comprehensive finals.<p>

He had rather hoped that Miss Potter could have pulled up her Potions mark by getting an Outstanding on the final examination. When she wasn't giggling with the Weasley boy, passing notes with Miss Granger, or trading insults with Draco Malfoy, she wasn't a bad hand at potions. Not nearly as proficient as Lily had been, of course, but that was to be expected. Much as he wished it otherwise, Rose was Potter's child as well as Lily's.

That had been evident the first time he'd seen her in the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony. She was small for her year, and her black hair had looked unkempt even pulled back with an elastic. Her plain features were Potter through and through, but it had been her emerald eyes that had mesmerized him. Even from behind those ridiculous glasses, he could see Lily's eyes staring curiously at him as the young lady had scanned the Head Table.

Naturally, he'd glared back. It would have not be appropriate to return her frank stare, and he'd watched as she had dropped his gaze as if she'd been burnt. For some reason, that had hurt more than he had thought it would, but he had paid it no heed. His job was to protect Rose Potter, not befriend her.

Protecting her was becoming increasingly difficult. The child was as headstrong as her father, and he suspected that she had been given James' invisibility cloak at some point. How else could she seemingly roam the castle at will? Whoever had given it to her must be mad, and he had a sinking suspicion that Dumbledore himself had put the dangerous artifact into the girl's eager hands.

He sighed. Thinking of Miss Potter only made his headache worse. Thoughts of the girl invariably led to thoughts of what might have been. At least she was safely aboard the train, and wouldn't be able to scare him half to death until the beginning of the next term.

In the morning, he would go to Spinner's End. Usually, he avoided his childhood home, but he didn't want to spend the summer at Hogwarts under Dumbledore's sharp gaze. He was Slytherin enough to follow the adage, 'out of sight, out of mind,' and planned to put it to good use. He had delicate potions to brew, and preferred to do so without being interrupted every five minutes by the Headmaster inquiring as to how he was getting along, or worse yet, engaging in gloomy discussions about the inevitable rise of the Dark Lord. He was enough of a realist to acknowledge that his former master would regain his body at some point in time, but that didn't mean he enjoyed discussing the prospect, especially when the thought sent cold shivers of fear down his spine.

Methodically, he inventoried his stores of potion ingredients. He was low on boomslang skin yet again. Cursing to himself, he vowed to get a lock that actually worked against simple opening spells next year. A student or students had no doubt stolen that particular item to make polyjuice potion. Biting back a sigh, he added it to a long list of ingredients that needed to be replenished. He could not wait to leave Hogwarts.

* * *

><p><em>Cornering Lily in the deserted hallway near the Potions classroom, Severus tenderly brushed his thumb against her cheek. She wore odd Muggle clothing, a ridiculously bright green miniskirt made of snake skin and a silver blouse unbuttoned low enough to expose her cleavage. <em>

"_You look ravishing, Lily."_

"_I wore it for you, Sev."_

"_Truly?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, hardly daring to believe her desire for him, even in his dreams._

"_Of course, silly! What do you think?"_

_Slowly, he pressed languid kisses against her neck, inhaling the warmth of her lilac scented skin. "I think that you look like the embodiment of temptation, Miss Evans. The snake in the garden of Eden couldn't compare to you."_

_As he unbuttoned her shirt to move his mouth downwards, she whimpered with desire. Emboldened, he put his other hand underneath her skirt, discovering to his satisfaction that she wore no knickers. __When she moaned, an all too rational part of his brain realized that it was going to be one of those dreams. He promptly ordered it to shut up and did his best to enjoy what had forever been denied him in reality._

_He was poised on top of her, gazing passionately into green eyes that implored him to make her his own, when another Lily appeared nearby. This Lily was nothing like the adolescent girl of his dreams. She was most certainly a woman; her maturity was evident in her silent patience. _

_For an instant, he forgot about the younger Lily, the one of his fantasies, and he looked the older Lily in the eyes. The overabundance of compassion he saw there made his breath hitch. However, it was the anxiety and grief in her gaze that caused him to be wary. He didn't need yet another guilty conversation with his subconscious. _

"_Lily?"_

_There was no simpering, no pleading, and definitely no exposed skin as this Lily waited tolerantly for him to stand and face her. She wore the dress of a practical housewife, although it couldn't cover her innate beauty, and her red hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. But still, her eyes were troubled, and he resigned himself to wallow in guilt once again._

"_Sev, you have to help me. You're the only one I trust. Help me, please, Sev."_

_Well, this was unusual. She wasn't hurling accusations at him as was his subconscious' usual wont. But, he had no idea what she was talking about. A cryptic dream, then—he hadn't had one of those in years._

_He decided to be flippant; it was his dream, after all. "Regretfully, Lily, I do not understand what it is you want. Can you come back tomorrow night? I'd like to finish my dream with the other Lily, if you don't mind."_

_Lily Evans Potter seemed to mind very much. She irately stamped the stone floor of the hallway leading to the Potions classroom. "This isn't time for games, Severus Snape! Rose is in terrible danger! I need your help to save her."_

_He groaned. Leave it to him to dream of Lily's daughter just when he was enjoying himself with the girl's mother. What kind of twisted mind did he have, anyway?_

"_While I acknowledge that she gets into more trouble than I would like, I am doing my best to protect her." Feeling remorseful once more for the reason he was the one entrusted with her safety, he added a moving apology. _

"_I am sorry, Lily—so very sorry that my actions resulted in your death. And, I know I should have handled the basilisk incident better, but I promise you I am doing my best. I won't let her come to harm. I care for you too much to let the Dark Lord hurt her."_

_Adult Lily was crying now. "Severus, please! You have to listen! Rose is in danger right now! You have to wake up and save her. It may already be too late. Time's a funny thing when you're dead."_

_That strange statement definitely piqued his curiosity. Still, he answered with his usual sneer. "So, you claim to be the ghost of Lily Potter?"_

"_I'm no ghost," she shot back, exposing him to her quick temper. Rapidly, though, her righteous anger was replaced by worry and apprehension. "Right now I am nothing more than a desperate mother trying to save her daughter. Please, Severus, you have to help her. You made a promise to Dumbledore."_

_Dumbledore. Of course. Everything revolved around Dumbledore in the end, he thought morosely._

_Suddenly, the location of his dream changed. He and the very grown up Lily were now standing near the playground where they had played as children. Looking down, he realized that he was no longer a virile boy of sixteen, but once again the embittered Potions Master. Tired of the dream, he ordered himself awake._

_Nothing happened._

"_Sev, please. You have to hurry."_

_A prickle of fear shot through him. This was no ordinary dream._

"_Lily?"_

"_That's what I've been trying to tell you," she answered impatiently._

"_But you're dead. I killed you."_

_Her features softened as she wrapped her arms around him in a tender embrace. "Oh, Severus, why can't you forgive yourself? No matter what you may have told him, Voldemort was the one who killed me, not you. And, I'm sorry as well. If I hadn't stormed off after you called me a mudblood, maybe we could have worked things out, and none of this would have happened."_

_He staunchly defended her. "It wasn't your fault. You were right. I was attracted to the Dark Arts, but I've learned my lesson. And, I will protect Rose, with my life, if need be."_

"_I know you will. But, you have to hurry. Her injuries are grievous, and I must warn you that you will have to protect her from friends as well as enemies. Now, hurry, Sev!"_

He bolted upright, his breaths coming in heaving gasps.

* * *

><p>What the hell had just happened? Had he actually spoken to a vision of Lily? Or was his subconscious trying to find new ways to torment him?<p>

Springing out of bed, Severus Snape dressed hastily. It didn't matter. He had one true purpose in life and one only—to protect Rose Potter. If there was the slightest chance that what he had seen was in any way real, he had to act. If it were true, Rose could be in mortal peril at that very moment. However, he had no intention of raising the alarm in case his dream proved false. He would not be made a laughingstock. Racing out of his quarters, he was relieved that Hogwarts was practically empty. There would be few to witness his folly should he be mistaken.

As he raced up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower, he occluded his mind. It was not a time for his fears to get the best of him. Perching on the edge of the parapet, he leapt into the air and flew to Hogsmeade. Tumbling to the ground (perhaps his mind was not as occluded as he had hoped), Severus Snape fixed Arabella Figg's address in his mind and Apparated to Little Whinging.

He landed in front of the Squib's house, and quickly scanned for threats. Privet Drive was deserted, although it was not so late that the houses were dark. Striding purposefully down the street, his robes flapping behind him, he was suddenly filled with self-doubt. He would look like a bloody stupid fool if he burst into the Dursley household and nothing was amiss. He could already imagine the look on Petunia's face when she realized who he was. No doubt Miss Potter would also take great pleasure in seeing her least favorite professor revealed to be a gibbering, simpering idiot.

The thought almost stopped him in his tracks, but the memory of Lily's forgiveness was fresh in his mind. He had always dreamed of absolution, but to hear it said with her voice was beyond his wildest imagining. For the sake of her memory, he would chance ridicule. Putting on his best sneer, he rang the bell. A very unwelcome face cracked open the door, but he didn't give her a chance to turn him away. Pushing it open, he crossed the threshold, immediately taking a few steps further inside.

"You!" she screeched. It seemed that Petunia Evans Dursley remembered him after all.

"Obviously," he answered, his voice full of disdain. "I do hope you will forgive me for barging in here, Tuney, but I have some questions I would like to put to Miss Potter. Please have her come downstairs immediately."

He uttered her nickname like an insult, and she stiffened with distaste. He might be able to use that knowledge later, if it became necessary. It seemed Petunia still harbored resentment over actions taken during their childhood, not that it surprised him in the least. How Dumbledore had determined that she was the best guardian for Lily's daughter was truly a mystery.

What could only be her husband joined her in the foyer; he was a hulking lump of a man who projected outrage from every fiber of his being. "Now, see here! You have no right to barge into our lives at all. Bad enough that we have to put up with that little freak of a niece. I will not have your kind in our home!"

"And, what, pray tell, is my kind?" Severus asked in an oily, dangerous voice.

"Freaks, the lot of you! Wizards and witches and God knows what else."

"Vernon, don't. He's dangerous."

Petunia's hissed warning had little effect on her husband, whose entire face had reddened in anger. However, the word dangerous reminded Snape of his reason for visiting, and he cursed himself for wasting time.

"The child, Petunia. I must speak to her. Now."

He'd had years to practice such a commanding tone. It was part sneer, part scorn and a good part implied threat. So, when Petunia didn't immediately call out for the girl, he got a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Vernon was very happy to explain why that wouldn't be possible. "Little ingrate didn't bother coming home tonight! Petunia had to cook dinner **and** clean the kitchen. When the no good freak finally decides to show up, you can be sure she's going to be punished for her insolence!"

If Severus hadn't been such a skilled actor, he might have staggered in shock. Sirius Black had escaped just that morning. Why would the Dursleys let Miss Potter out of the house at all? Certainly they had been informed of the danger. Or had she stupidly run away? Again, he almost fell into the trap of pursuing the tangent, but after a few seconds, he focused on the task at hand.

"Where would she have gone?"

This time, the threat wasn't so much implied as promised, and Petunia began to wring her hands in fear. Vernon, however, was not that intelligent. His neck muscles straining with fury, he told Snape exactly what he thought of the question.

"Why would we know where that nasty little freak has gone? Probably just skiving off from doing her chores. And, when she gets back, let me tell you, confining her to her room is the least I'm going to do to her. It's time she's taught a lesson."

His jaw clenching so much that it pained him, Severus whipped out his wand. He had no more time to waste. "I'll ask you again because it is all too apparent that your skull is overly large for your brain. Do you know where Miss Potter could have gone? Can you give me the names of her friends with whom she might be?"

The two Dursleys took a step back at the sight of his wand, and it was in that instant that Severus noticed the boy behind the red-faced man. The child was almost a clone of his father, right down to the enormous double chin. Though, he appeared to be slightly more intelligent than his raging parent. At least he had the common sense to be afraid.

Ignoring Vernon's rant about the fact that Rose Potter was too much of a freak to have friends, Snape focused on the boy. So did Petunia. As she saw the expression on her son's face, her eyes narrowed.

"If you know where the brat is, Dudley, tell me now so we can be rid of this loathsome man."

At once, Severus knew without a doubt that the rotund child knew something. He'd seen that half terrified, half guilty expression on too many Hogwarts students in the past. Scowling, he pressed his wand against Dudley's neck. For some inexplicable reason, the boy clutched his bottom.

"I don't know where she is," Dudley wailed. "I swear; I don't. I just heard . . . ." Here, he trailed off, looking guiltily at the floor.

"What did you hear, boy? Answer me!" Snape thundered, and the entire house crackled as if a massive charge of static electricity gathered in the air.

Gulping, Dudley stammered what he had heard. "N-not much! P-P-Piers told me that he . . . that he and his friends . . . that he . . . ."

"Out with it!"

The rest came out in a tumble of words, spoken so quickly that it took Snape a moment to understand it.

"That he and his friends were tired of Rose acting like she was better than they and that they were going to thaw the ice queen."

Petunia was the first to react. She involuntarily sucked in her breath, the blood draining from her face. Dudley quickly averted his eyes downward, hoping to be ignored. And, the churning in Severus' gut solidified into a cold, hard lump of fear. Vernon opened his mouth to comment, but the Hogwarts professor cast a Silencio, stopping the man's tirade quite effectively.

Seemingly dispassionate, Snape addressed Petunia. "Do you have any idea where they might have taken her?"

The dour woman glanced at her son, but Dudley studiously refused to meet her eyes. "Piers and his friends like the playground. You might check there first."

Nodding brusquely, Severus turned and raced out the door, praying that Rose had run away from her potential tormentors and was hiding where she felt safe. As he approached the dark and deserted playground, however, he cynically remembered that God, if He existed, had not once answered any of his prayers. He had a horrible feeling that this time would be no exception.


	2. Snape's Worst Memory

Casting _ Lumos_, Severus Snape searched the playground, but it was empty. Circling the perimeter, he began to search around the four large oak trees that flanked the green space. Every sense alerted to the point of hyperawareness, he carefully parted weeds and peered around knobby roots.

He found her near a tall clump of dead weeds behind the biggest oak tree. In the dim light, she looked like a broken porcelain doll abandoned in the rocky brush. Her limbs were askew at odd angles and her skin was deathly white.

For a numb moment, he thought he was much too late. But, then she took a shuddering breath, and he understood he had no time to lose. "Lily," he breathed, kneeling down beside the daughter of the woman he loved. His invocation of her name was an apology and a plea for aid. But if it was answered, then he was none the wiser.

With clinical detachment, he took in the state of the girl's clothes. Her sweatshirt had been cut to shreds, and her jeans had been used at some point to secure her arms. Every inch of exposed skin sported bruises, including her face and neck. Her right arm was at an impossible angle, and no doubt broken. Worse, it was obvious from her ragged breathing that some of her ribs were broken as well. If he wasn't careful, the simple act of moving her would puncture a lung.

Pulling off his cloak, he draped it on top of her, covering her broken body and providing some much needed warmth. Knowing that Madame Pomfrey would be in residence at the castle, he cast his Patronus to inform her that he needed help and to meet him in the infirmary. They couldn't take Rose to St. Mungo's; it simply wasn't safe enough. And, Poppy was a very competent healer, better than most at fixing up broken bones and blunt force trauma.

As calmly as he could, he looked down at the child before him. It was dangerous to move her, but far more dangerous to sit in the open and wait for assistance with Sirius Black on the loose. As he debated his best course of action, an enormous, raging black dog knocked him to the ground.

His emotional state had been so affected by Rose's injuries, that he hadn't heard the animal's approach. He heard it now. Snarling and growling, it did its best to rip apart his throat. The creature had to settle for his left arm, viciously sinking its teeth into skin and bone.

Snape did his best to fight back. However, he'd forcefully struck his head on a large rock when the dog had tackled him, and his vision tunneled alarmingly. Worse, his wand had been knocked out of his hand. As he felt his flesh being brutally torn, he cried out, half-crazed and truly desperate.

"Damn it, Lily! I could use some help here! Rose is going to die if I can't get her to Hogwarts!"

Years later, he would still be unable to explain what had made him speak aloud, but he couldn't argue with the results. Seemingly, a miracle occurred. The dog stopped his attack and ran whining into the darkness.

Shaking, Severus pushed himself up with his good arm and searched for his wand. Shock—he was definitely in shock. He couldn't remember a single spell to stop the bleeding. The crazed mutt's teeth had torn through a vein, and the world was once again going gray. Brutally, he pushed his injuries to a corner of his mind, forcing himself to calm. He had to get Rose to safety. Turning his attention to her once again, he was dismayed to find her aware.

"Professor?"

Choking back a sob, he lied to her with a proficiency he had mastered long before becoming Dumbledore's spy. "I'm going to get you to Hogwarts, Miss Potter. Everything will be fine."

Only half-aware, she didn't answer. Not quite coherent himself, he transfigured a piece of his cloak into a roll of gauze and wrapped it tightly around his arm. The material was almost instantly soaked through, but it was meant to be a temporary solution at best.

Gingerly, he picked her up. She groaned in pain and weakly struggled against him. "No, no. Don't. Please."

Staggering under her negligible weight, he thought his heart would break. "It's alright, Miss Potter. It's Professor Snape. I'm taking you to Hogwarts. You're safe now."

When he met her gaze this time, he cringed to see the pain reflected in her eyes. Her voice raspy, she whispered, "Professor Snape? You found me? I thought . . . I thought . . . ."

Whatever she thought, it was too terrible to say, and he soothed her as best he could while preparing himself to Apparate under such dire conditions. He was growing increasingly dizzy, and his head felt like it was splitting in two.

"No one is going to hurt you again, Miss Potter. You have my word. I'm going to get you to Hogwarts and Madame Pomfrey will tend to your injuries. Close your eyes, and when you open them, you'll be safe in the infirmary.

She closed her eyes without protest, and he pictured the Hog's Head tavern in Hogsmeade firmly in his mind. More determined than he had ever been, he Disapparated from Little Whinging with a loud pop.

* * *

><p>"Severus, what the bloody hell?" Aberforth Dumbledore stared incredulously at the Potions Master, too stunned to pull out his wand.<p>

Astonished that neither he nor Rose had been splinched, Snape didn't bother with an answer. Instead he commanded in his most authoritative tone. "I need to get into the castle. Now, Aberforth."

Staring at the bundle in the bleeding man's arms, the barkeep didn't bother with needless questions. Instead, he opened the secret entrance into Howarts, and silently watched the professor disappear.

Snape made it out of the secret passage before another wave of dizziness hit him. Leaning heavily against the stone wall, he hoped that he could manage one more spell. Thinking of the dream Lily's forgiveness, he cast his Patronus with the instructions it find the nearest help available. Then, his legs slid from underneath him, and he sat heavily on the bare floor, cradling Rose against him until everything went black.

* * *

><p>Consciousness returned in stages. He knew he was lying on a bed, but the reason eluded him. The first time he woke, he could hear the murmur of voices, but his eyelids were too heavy to force open. He thought he slept for a while after that. The next time he was aware, the voices became more distinct, but he couldn't understand them. He was lucid enough to know the voices were frantic and worried, but, again, he didn't seem to be able to open his eyes.<p>

When he finally did manage to wake completely, sunlight poured through the windows of the infirmary, warming his bed. He didn't mind; now that he was conscious, he decided he was freezing. Involuntarily, he shuddered. Minerva McGonagall was by his side in an instant.

"Severus, thank God. Poppy was worried that you had pushed yourself beyond even your vast limits."

Her blunt concern brought tears to his eyes, and he blinked rapidly lest she see his all too emotional display. His injuries were grave if he couldn't manage to mask his reactions. Ignoring his own predicament for the moment, he slowly turned to his colleague. "Miss Potter?" he croaked.

Minerva looked away, and when she finally turned towards him, tears dampened her cheeks. Fearing the worst, he tried to sit up, but the dizziness returned with a vengeance, and he was forced to acquiesce when the spry witch gently pushed him back down.

"Don't try to sit up just yet, Severus. You need at least one Blood-Replenishing Potion, if not two, and your concussion is severe. Miss Potter is unconscious, a blessing at the moment as Poppy is still treating her."

He closed his eyes in sheer relief. He had not been too late after all. After a few moments of blissful silence, though, McGonagall quietly demanded, "What happened to her, Severus? And how did you know she had been attacked? Was it some of You-Know-Who's old followers? Did they invite you to join in?"

For a moment, he wished it had been Death Eaters instead of a group of vicious Muggle hooligans. At least with the Death Eaters, there would be no censure if he hunted down the lot of them and personally handed them to the Dementors for a kiss. Unfortunately, he would have to find more creative methods of retribution. It would be impossible to protect the child from Azkaban.

And, then, the sheer brutality he had seen beaten into the young girl's body blotted even the thought of revenge from his mind. He managed to roll to the side before he was sick all over the bed and floor. Shuddering, he could not seem to speak or draw breath, and the sudden, piercing pain in his head became all consuming. Unwillingly, he again gave into the darkness.

* * *

><p>Begrudgingly opening his eyes, Snape noted with some measure of exasperation that it was not Minerva sitting next to him, but Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. The man gave no indication that he noticed Severus had finally woken, and the professor took a moment to study his superior.<p>

Dumbledore was staring towards the darkened windows, a melancholy expression on his unusually dour face. It was the first time that Snape found the word 'old' fit the man and he wondered how much the Headmaster knew of Miss Potter's attack. No, that wasn't entirely true, he realized with a start. In actuality, he wondered how much the usually jovial man blamed himself for the attack.

Snape knew he lay at least some of the blame at the powerful wizard's feet. Albus had been the one who had blithely sent Lily's child to live with Petunia Dursley, the one woman in all of Britain guaranteed to resent the miraculous young witch.

All too soon, the Headmaster felt his keen gaze. "Ah, Severus, you're awake. Poppy tells me that you were sorely injured in Miss Potter's defense. The entire wizarding world owes you a debt of gratitude."

In the past, he might have preened at the praise; he received so very little, after all. But the thought of gratitude in the light of Rose Potter's horrific attack made his stomach turn. It was all too easy to plaster a sneer on his face.

"No doubt the entire wizarding world would be appalled by the fact that the girl who lived was brutally gang raped by a bunch of Muggle thugs, Albus."

It had been difficult to acknowledge the ugly truth out loud, but he had aimed to pierce the self-assured wizard's conscience. He was therefore quite pleased to see the look of intense pain that flashed across Dumbledore's face. His satisfaction was quickly replaced by wariness, however, when the Headmaster solemnly agreed.

"Yes, such knowledge would undoubtedly create a backlash against the Muggle community. I hope you can understand, then, why I have no intention of informing the Ministry at all."

His answer was scathing. "I hardly see how you can hope to achieve that, Albus. Miss Potter will eventually speak to her friends about her attack, and one of them, no doubt Miss Granger, will feel compelled to inform the proper authorities. The news will reach the Ministry, one way or the other."

The man to whom he'd pledged his life seemed deeply troubled. "Severus, this must remain undisclosed. Wizard-Muggle relations could be set back a century if this were to become public knowledge. Rose might become a rallying cry for those who previously supported Voldemort and his anti-Muggle agenda. I'm afraid there's no recourse but to ensure that this remains a secret."

Snape opened his mouth to demand how the old man intended to manage that, but Madame Pomfrey appeared next to his bed and sternly ordered Dumbledore away. "Professor Snape is still suffering the effects of a severe concussion, Headmaster. I think it would be best if you allowed him to rest."

"Of course, Poppy. Please inform me the moment Rose regains consciousness." Then, he turned to his Potions Master, his voice full of concerned kindness. "I hope the next time I visit, you will be in a better frame of mind, my boy. I'm sure with some rest you'll come to see how important it is that we consider all of the ramifications before making a rash decision."

"Of course," he replied in what he hoped was a neutral tone of voice.

He watched Dumbledore's back as the wizard exited the infirmary. By the way he stooped, it appeared that the man now carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Severus wished that were the case. If he did, he would be more concerned for an injured student's wellbeing than the political ramifications of her attack.

Abruptly, he realized that Dumbledore had not once asked him what had happened that night. His face furrowed in a reflexive scowl as he tried to understand that. Brusquely, he interrogated the only person available.

"Has Miss Potter regained consciousness?"

Propping him up on several pillows, Madame Pomfrey handed him a vial of Blood-Replenishing Potion to drink before answering. "No, poor child. She was very close to death. I don't expect her to wake up for a while yet."

Grimacing at the overwhelming taste of iron in the potion, Severus took a chance and dared question Dumbledore's actions. Looking befuddled as he possibly could, he asked, "How did Albus know what transpired? The last thing I remember, Minerva asked me what happened. She believed Miss Potter's attackers to be Death Eaters in hiding. Did I regain consciousness long enough to tell her it was Muggles?"

All too sympathetic, she patted his hand. "I know how much it must frustrate you to be confused, Severus. I can admit now that I was so very worried about you. Your concussion was severe enough to affect your respiratory system for a time. Rest assured that you have not woken and failed to remember it. The Headmaster gleaned the information from Rose's attack from Rose herself."

It was all he could do to maintain his state of bemusement. Rage threatened to erupt from within. "I must have been mistaken. I thought you had told me Miss Potter has not yet recovered consciousness."

"She hasn't," the school matron confirmed. "The Headmaster viewed the memories directly from her mind. Much easier than forcing her to speak of such things, I'm sure."

So Dumbledore had added mental rape on top of physical. Snape truly thought he might become ill—again.

"Severus! Are you alright?"

Gaining some semblance of control before he was tempted to tell her exactly what was wrong, he tried to smile. It more than likely came out as a pained grimace, but he nevertheless plodded on.

"I find myself somewhat nauseous. However, I wish to speak to Professor McGonagall, should she still be at Hogwarts."

"Of course, I'll call for Minerva right away." Seeing, his pallor, however, she quickly changed her mind. "On second thought, Severus, I believe you should rest before exerting yourself any further. You look appallingly gray."

He took the anti-nausea potion she offered him without protest. Unfortunately, he was feeling rather ill. The idea of resting before informing Minerva of the Headmaster's mistreatment of one of her students had a certain appeal. Wearily, he closed his eyes as she bustled about in an attempt to make him more comfortable. A fifteen minute nap wouldn't go amiss.

* * *

><p>"Professor?"<p>

Snape cracked his eyes open. The windows of the infirmary were still black, and the room itself was dimly lit by a few well-placed candles. Instinctively, he knew it was the middle of the night. Rose Potter stood next to his bed, looking so pale that for an instant he had mistaken her for one of the ghosts of Hogwarts.

"Professor? Are you alright?"

Tears welled in his eyes and he jerked upright, only to have his vision blur. How could she, after everything she had suffered, be worried in the slightest for him?

"I have been better," he ruefully acknowledged as he tried to will the room to stop spinning. "The more important question, Miss Potter, is how are you?"

Eyes suddenly downcast, she shrugged a little before visibly gathering her courage. "I thought I was going to die," she admitted tremulously. "And, then you came for me. I prayed someone would come, and you did. And, I'm really grateful, Professor, don't misunderstand, me. I was just wondering, why it was you?"

He sputtered with inappropriate laughter, verging on hysteria. "Why wouldn't it be me?" he asked, not clearly understanding what he said. "Who else would your mother visit in a dream and be believed?"

Groaning, he stifled the urge to clamp his hand over his mouth. Had he said what he thought he had said? On further reflection, he realized he had. As Rose Potter gaped at him, eyes wide with surprise, he belatedly did cover his mouth, although the hilarity of the situation was quickly giving over to horror.

"I would prefer that no one else know that information, Miss Potter."

Recovering somewhat, his request had been couched in a tone reserved for first year dunderheads, and he was relieved to see that she nodded earnestly in agreement.

"You knew my mum?"

His damn head felt like someone was stabbing a knife into it. Leaning back on his pillows, he regarded the child in front of him thoughtfully, wishing more than anything that he could give her back the parents that he had unwittingly stolen from her.

"I did. We were childhood friends."

"Oh." She opened her mouth to ask another question, but before the traumatized girl could ask it, she swayed alarmingly.

Panicked, Severus jumped out of bed and grabbed Rose, completely ignoring his own injuries. Then, he knelt in front of her, pulling her close and hugging her just as he had dreamed of being comforted when he was a small, all too frightened boy. She sobbed uncontrollably against his chest as unchecked tears rolled down his face.

If only the pain in his head would stop! It was taking all his concentration to remain upright. Patting her back, he tried to murmur words of reassurances, but they just would not come. His earlier nausea had returned with a vengeance, and he was finding it difficult to focus.

When he finally did attempt to speak, she suddenly pulled back, a confused expression on her blotchy face. As he continued, her confusion turned to abject terror. Urgently, she patted his arm, jibbering so quickly that he couldn't understand what she said. He was about to ask her to slow down when she bolted out of the room, screaming. Bemused, he watched her run away before the pain in his head drove all thoughts out of his mind.


	3. For the Best?

The next time Severus Snape woke, Gryffindor Head of House Minerva McGonagall sat dejectedly in a chair next to his bed. Only, this was not the Hogwarts infirmary. It was a familiar place, but he didn't quite recognize it.

"Where . . . ?"

"Severus!" The older witch's voice was gruff with emotion. "We were all so worried!" Gripping his hand, she continued, "It's been two weeks! Even the Healers were beginning to become concerned."

His heart raced; he was missing something, something vital, and that thought pushed him to a near panic. As a spy for the Order, he knew the dangers of ignorance. Concentrating, he considered everything that he had experienced since waking in the strange room.

Minerva held his hand, had, in fact, been holding it since he had woken. She knew how much he detested such sentimental contact, so something truly upsetting must have recently occurred. But there was something more important, something she had said. Two weeks—she had said it had been two weeks and the Healers were beginning to show concern.

"Why am I at St. Mungo's?" he finally whispered.

His simple question seemed to unnerve McGonagall. "Perhaps I should find one of the Healers. No doubt they could give you a better answer."

He threw his left hand out, intending to emphatically demand some answers. Only, his arm flopped clumsily, ruining the effect. He might have panicked over that disturbing incident, but he finally remembered the reason for his injuries.

"Minerva," he demanded in a much stronger voice. "Tell me of Rose. How badly was she injured? Was Poppy able to heal her? Why was she allowed out of bed? She would have collapsed if I had not caught her."

Abruptly, the temperature in the tiny room plummeted, and the Transfigurations Professor's lips compressed into a hard, thin line. It was all too apparent that McGonagall was livid. Glancing over her shoulder to ensure they were alone, she began to explain.

"Miss Potter's bones mended correctly. Her other injuries were grave, although Poppy said . . . Poppy said that she should be able to bear children."

He winced, fighting back bile. He knew it had been bad, but in the dark it had been difficult to see just how badly the thugs had brutalized her. Reading McGonagall's expression, however, he tensed. Her face telegraphed that there were more horrors to come.

"Continue."

Again, she glanced behind her, this time casting _Muffilato_ so there was no chance of being overheard. "You, more than anyone has a right to know, Severus, but I hesitate to tell you so soon after waking from your coma. You shouldn't be getting upset."

A coma—he had been in a coma. He vaguely remembered his headache. Considering his lack of coordination, he guessed what had happened, but he wasn't ready to face it yet. It was much easier to focus on Rose Potter's welfare. "I think you will find that I am already upset, Minerva. Certainly, it can't be any worse than I have imagined."

Unfortunately, it could. In fact, it was damn near unimaginable. Rose was not safe at Hogwarts receiving continued treatment and counseling for her brutal attack. She wasn't even safe. She was, in fact, back at the Dursleys, her memory of that evening Obliviated by none other than Albus Dumbledore himself.

As McGonagall finished her tale, his mind refused to believe it. Then, as he accepted the truth, he seethed. Once he reined in his temper, his face became an emotionless mask, and he spent several minutes pondering this horrifying development. Lily of the dream had been correct; he was going to have to protect Rose from allies as well as enemies.

"Tell me his reasons," he finally commanded, hoping that the old man was not at this very minute making his way to his hospital room. He was a master of Occulemcy, but even he had his limits.

Now that the elderly witch had told him the worst, she seemed eager to make a clean breast of it. "When Lily sacrificed herself to save her daughter, she unknowingly invoked a very powerful and ancient magic based on blood. As long as Miss Potter can claim the house of Lily's sister as home, Voldemort cannot touch her while she is underage. She must live in the residence for at least two weeks out of the year for this to hold true."

Severus tiredly interjected before she could continue. "The Dark Lord is gone. There is no need to send her where she is not wanted for a protection the child does not need."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "And, you know that's not true, or you wouldn't refer to him as the Dark Lord."

Points to Gryffindor. Of course he knew Voldemort was not truly dead. But, he had been vanquished, and there was no reason to think (save Quirrell and that infernal diary) that he was any closer to reappearing than he had been thirteen years ago. Even so, he conceded the point.

"Is that the only reason the Headmaster gave you?"

"No," she admitted quietly, looking slightly ashamed. "He explained that it would be dangerous for Rose to tell anyone about her attack. Relations with Muggles are bad enough without the entire wizarding community having another reason to hate them. And, he said this would be in her best interest. He said that memory of such an attack might permanently affect her magic and warp her mind."

"So, you allowed him to persuade you," he snidely remarked.

"No," she shot back, her voice rising in pitch. "I did not. He did it without informing me or Madam Pomfrey, and if it had been anyone besides Albus Dumbledore, I would have reported him to the Ministry, but as it is, what's done is done. Perhaps he's right. Perhaps it is for the best."

He closed his eyes, biting back a curse. If Minerva wished to delude herself, then she was more than welcome to do so. However, Obliviating a victim's mind like Dumbledore had done was inherently dangerous, no matter how powerful the wizard performing such a spell. Obliviation erased memories, but not the emotions behind them. And, he was sure that Miss Potter would have some very strong emotions attached to those particular memories.

Mistaking his musings for confusion, Minerva worriedly asked, "Severus? Are you alright, Severus?"

Jerking upright, his face froze in a terrifying scowl, and his voice cracked like a whip. "That is the most pathetic justification for cowardice I have ever heard come out of your mouth, Minerva McGonagall. Perhaps you aren't Gryffindor material after all."

Then, he deliberately increased his volume, until his words could be heard clearly in the hallway. "Get out! I don't want to see your face or anyone else's! My left arm is useless, and I won't be the object of pity! So, you may leave, you old crone! I don't want to see your gutless face again!"

Clutching his head in agony, he dropped back onto his pillow. As Minerva witnessed his sudden collapse, she had never felt more ashamed. She deserved everything he had said. When he failed to rouse, she rushed guiltily out of the room, calling frantically for a Healer.

* * *

><p>Snape carefully dressed, ignoring the slight trembling in his left hand. It had taken him weeks of grueling therapy and truly noxious potions to recover sufficiently from his stroke in order to check himself out of St. Mungos. In all that time, he had been alone, save for an ever revolving team of Healers. Ironically, he was in the perfect place to avoid Albus Dumbledore. The medical staff took their oaths very seriously, and when he had requested privacy, they had been more than understanding.<p>

Surveying himself in the mirror, he grunted with derision. He was under no pretense that he was a handsome man; most could not get past his beak-like nose and uncommonly greasy hair. However, his illness had robbed him of both muscle and fat, until he appeared to be truly skeletal. He'd have to work on that as soon as term started. Perhaps Madame Pomfrey could suggest a training regimen.

At least his infirmity had one positive effect. He would never serve as a spy for either side again. To the Dark Lord, cripples were as bad as Mudbloods and evidence of weak magic. There would be no returning to his side when he inevitably rose. While he was prepared to dutifully feign disappointment, in truth, it was a relief to be free from such a heavy burden.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he frowned at the Muggle clothing he wore. The black jeans were too loose; he'd been forced to transfigure some twine nicked from the hospital shop into a belt. The t-shirt was emblazoned with some rock band's logo, which he deemed highly inappropriate, and the black leather jacket only served to emphasize his frailty. But, it would not be too conspicuous in Surrey, which is where he would be going.

Picking up the hated ebony cane, he took a final look around his room. He'd endured pain equivalent to the Cruciatus Curse as he'd stubbornly refused to believe Healer Wellby's pronouncement that he would never walk. The potions had been experimental, but they had worked far better than anyone could have expected. He was left with slight tremors in his left hand, weakness and spasms in his left leg, and a tendency to stutter when he was tired. However, his magic was intact, and his intelligence had not been affected. For that, he was truly grateful.

"Are you positive you don't wish me to inform anyone of your discharge, Professor?"

Severus regarded the young Healer thoughtfully. He had been one of the Potion Master's prized students five years ago, and had made a point of taking an interest in Snape's care. In fact, he had been instrumental in getting the approval to use the experimental potions.

"Thank you Healer Wellby, but no. I do not require assistance, and would like the luxury to reacquaint myself with my domicile alone."

The young man's face fell, and Snape realized with a start that he was disappointed. Had his question in reality been an offer of assistance?

Picking up the small bag of his belongings from the bed, Severus did his best to be cordial. His former student truly had a gift for the healing arts, and it was always unwise to burn bridges.

"Although, if I find myself in difficulty, I may have to make a pest of myself and contact you."

The blond man blushed beet red. "It would be no trouble, Professor Snape. Please don't hesitate to floo call anytime."

He hid his amusement. Wellby obviously had a crush on him, which might have humiliated him prior to his attack, but now he merely found it mildly ironic. He'd never been the object of another's attraction, witch or wizard, but he'd been a teacher long enough to notice the signs. Pretending that he hadn't picked up on the man's eagerness, he bade him a polite farewell.

Within minutes, he was outside of St. Mungo's. Although he'd been in intense physical therapy the last few weeks, he still found the simple act of walking to be physically draining. However, he wished to ensure that he was well into Muggle London before he hailed a cab. He had no intention of allowing anyone, especially a spy sent by Dumbledore, follow him to his destination.

Finally, he reached a Tube Station, and stuck his hand out for a taxi. "Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, please."

As the driver pulled away from the curb, Severus leaned wearily against the taxi door. After weeks of intense thinking, he still had been unable to invent a reasonable excuse to visit Rose Potter over the summer holidays. Lucky for him, he didn't have the reputation for being reasonable.

* * *

><p>Ringing the bell, Severus held his wand out, expecting a confrontation. He was startled, therefore, when Petunia Dursley answered the door and wordlessly gestured for him to enter. Although it was a Saturday, the spotless house was quiet, and he wondered where her walrus of a husband and whale of a son had gone.<p>

She led him to the den, asking him to sit. For several tense moments, Petunia studied his cane, and he briefly wondered if he shouldn't have sent McGonagall. Pity was one emotion he found impossible to tolerate.

When she finally spoke there was an odd catch to her voice. "Dumbledore said you were injured saving Rose. I had no idea how badly."

He dismissed her concern with a well-practiced sneer. "It is of little consequence. I am a Potions Master, not some silly wand waver."

Surprisingly, she didn't respond in kind, nodding briskly before asking him why he had come.

"I've come to check on Miss Potter, as if it isn't patently obvious. Is she home?"

He hoped she was home. Black was still on the loose. The Aurors had been woefully ineffectual in tracking down leads. Although there had been supposed sightings all over Britain, not one had been confirmed by the Ministry.

"She's upstairs."

Petunia paused for a moment, her mouth half open, as if she couldn't quite verbalize her thoughts. Severus thought she looked particularly idiotic, and was about to tell her so when she surprised him completely.

"I'm worried about her. That fre . . . er . . . wizard, you know, Dumbledore, said we should tell her she had been in a car accident. He said she was hurt badly enough that she wouldn't remember the attack, and it was for the best. But, he wouldn't tell us exactly what happened. And, she's not been herself."

Focusing his entire attention on Lily's sister, he detected an emotion on her face that was difficult to identify. While it wasn't as strong as shame, it was something close—regret, perhaps, or was it embarrassment? No matter, he was more than willing to take advantage.

"How so?"

"She . . . ." Petunia paused, and for an instant her mortification was clearly visible. Then, just as suddenly, her features stiffened into resolve. "She and Vernon have always clashed. I convinced him to take her in by promising that she wouldn't be like her parents. When she started showing signs of being a witch, he decided if he disciplined her harshly enough, he could stamp it out of her. Usually, if he lost control, she would stand up for herself at least, talk back, somehow make him stop. But now, it's as if she has no fight left in her."

For a moment he couldn't respond. He wanted to press his wand against her throat and demand further explanation. What, exactly, had Vernon Dursley done to Rose in the past that had required her to stand up for herself? And, would anyone besides the woman in front of him care if he killed the brute of a man?

Swiftly regaining control of his thoughts, he decided that revenge could wait. "Do you mean to say she is depressed?"

"Perhaps. Or perhaps her spirit has been crushed. I'm not sure. I asked Vernon last week to visit his sister Marge and take Dudley with him. Dudley doesn't know how to react. Piers and his gang have bragged to him about certain things they did to her, and he was sickened. Really, those aren't the types of acts you would think fourteen year old boys capable of. But, he can't sympathize with Rose because she doesn't remember it happened. So, he shadowed her around the house, asking constantly if she needed anything. Only, that scared her out of her wits. It was better for both of them if he left."

"I see," he said, although he wasn't sure he did. Oh, he understood Rose's reactions. While Dumbledore had Obliviated her memories, it was impossible to erase the emotions such a brutal attack had evoked. Frankly, he was surprised she wasn't suicidal. To have such strong reactions and not understand the underlying cause must be troubling in the extreme. What he didn't understand was Petunia.

Could Lily's sister actually care for her niece? Or was she simply appalled that such a thing could have happened in a "nice" neighborhood? If she did care for Rose, it was a relatively new emotion, or else she wouldn't have allowed her walrus of a husband anywhere near the girl.

When it became apparent that he wasn't going to comment further, Petunia Dursley belatedly offered him some tea. He declined brusquely before asking again to speak to Rose. Bellowing up the stairs, Petunia called for the girl to show herself.

Standing to the side, he carefully observed the young lady as she approached. Her eyes were downcast, and it was obvious that she hadn't seen him as she walked slowly into the den.

"You wanted me, Aunt Petunia?"

"Yes, Rose. You have a visitor."

Her head shot up as she finally perceived who temporarily shared her living space. Her face transformed with a wide, joyful grin, but fell just as quickly as she comprehended what she had done. Then, her features went rapidly from bemusement to wariness.

"Professor Snape. What are you doing here?"

At that point, he was grateful his faculties hadn't been affected by his stroke. He could still think quickly on his feet. "Your aunt has informed the school that you have no one to accompany you to Diagon Alley. I am here to serve as your escort to purchase your school supplies."

"Oh. Okay."

The confusion returned, but it was now mixed with a high level of anxiety. She eyed his cane with suspicion, unconsciously sucking on her lower lip as she tried to reason why he held such a thing in his hand.

"You were hurt," she accused in a panic, hardly understanding what she said.

He was momentarily taken aback. He hadn't expected her to be worried about him, but it made a certain amount of sense. He had rescued her, even if he had been much too late to save her from her fate. And, she had witnessed his collapse. It was only natural that she had been concerned for his wellbeing before Dumbledore stole her memories.

He would have to be careful. While he refused to perpetuate the crime the Headmaster had committed, he could not blurt out the truth. More importantly, he did not want to add to whatever subconscious guilt she might be harboring.

"I had an accident. I am recovering. It is nothing to trouble yourself about."

"You were in an accident, Professor? Like me?"

"My accident had nothing to do with Muggle transportation, Miss Potter."

She blinked a few times before nodding and turning her attention to her aunt. "Are you coming with us?"

Petunia's nostrils flared. "Certainly not. I will not be forced to enter Diagon Alley ever again. There is nothing there that interests me in the slightest."

"Again? Does that mean you've been there before? Did you go with my mum?" Suddenly, she was angry. "You did, didn't you? I bet you knew how to get onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters, too! I almost missed the train first year because you and Uncle Vernon just dropped me off! What else aren't you telling me?"

Whatever sympathy Petunia had harbored for her niece disappeared as soon as Rose reminded her of what she could not have. "Of course I went to those horrid places! Your freak of a mother had to drag us all there to show off! She took me to Diagon Alley just to make me jealous. Well, I'll tell you a secret, you ungrateful child, it didn't work because I wouldn't have anything to do with something so unnatural. It sickens me to look at you, knowing you're just as unnatural as she was!"

"That's enough, Tuney!"

Hearing her hated nickname brought her to her senses. Visibly shaken, she stared at the floor. "Yes. Yes, Severus, you're quite right. I have done more than anyone has the right to expect. Perhaps it would be best for all if you take her for the rest of the summer holidays. I understand the reasons she must call this house her home, and I will continue to allow it, but it would be better for all concerned if the girl were gone until next summer."

"Of course," he answered smoothly before he could remind himself of the fifty different reasons why he knew this to be a bad idea. "If you will hand write a note appointing me as your proxy for Miss Potter's guardianship, I would be willing to take her for the rest of the holidays."

She was more than happy to do so. Snape noted that there was no expiration date on the document she had written, but he didn't feel the need to inform her of the fact. If her oaf of a husband was stupid enough to harass Rose ever again, the document could come in handy, blood protection or no. And, it was something that Albus Dumbledore could not refute.

The girl in question had gone absolutely white, and it took all of Severus' willpower not to envelop her in his arms and promise he would protect her. He had to maintain some shred of his reputation.

"Miss P-potter, I give you t-t-ten minutes to p-p-p-pack your things.

Damn! He hadn't realized how fatigued he truly was. Perhaps he should have rested before checking on Rose. His stutter seemed to have affected her quite badly; no doubt he reminded her of Professor Quirrel. He hadn't thought she could have paled any further. Sitting heavily on the couch, he held up his hand until he was sure he could control his speech once more.

"I assure you, I am tired, nothing more, Miss Potter. Please pack your trunk and your owl and I will be upstairs to assist you in a few minutes."

The child bolted up the stairs, and he envied her energy. Petunia once again stared at him thoughtfully. "What happened to you that night, Severus? It is my understanding the boys left Rose to die. They couldn't have been your attackers."

There was no reason to lie, and every reason to tell the truth to Lily's sister. "I was attacked by a wild dog when I found Rose. I should have died along with her that night, except . . . ." He shrugged, suddenly embarrassed. He didn't want her mocking him on top of everything else.

"Except for what?"

"Except for the f-fact that I begged L-l-lily to save us."

Far from scoffing, she held her hand over her mouth in an effort to stifle her unexpected emotion. "She always protected those she loved. I can only pray that one day she shall forgive me for not protecting her daughter."

For the first time in his life, Severus Snape looked at Petunia Evans Dursley with some measure of sympathy. Her eyes glistening with tears, she reminded him much more of the sorrowful little girl who had wanted nothing more than to be as special as her sister rather than the severe, unpleasant hag he had met a month ago.

"If s-s-she could forgive me, certainly she will do the s-s-same for you. You n-n-need only ask."

"It is the asking that is difficult, Severus."

Standing stiffly, he inclined his head, using his words sparingly. "Yes, it is."

Her abrasive features softened, and she gingerly took hold of his arm. "Promise me you will look out for Rose, Severus. I fear she might do something foolish."

Although he shared her concern, he did not acknowledge it. Instead, a sardonic grin stole over his face. "Foolish is her m-m-middle name. Last t-t-term she fought a basilisk and almost died. I don't know which is more a-a-appalling, her bravery or her blatant d-disregard for her own life."

Cursing his infirmity, he didn't notice Petunia's fleeting expression of alarm. It was quickly replaced by a more neutral expression as Rose walked slowly down the stairs.

She immediately began to berate the girl. "Where is your trunk? Surely you don't prefer to remain in your room for the rest of the holidays?"

It was blatantly apparent that Rose hadn't quite made up her mind about the last question, but she answered readily enough. "I can't lift my trunk, and it would be dangerous for the Professor to perform magic in the house. When Dobby did last year, I got blamed, and I'm not going to chance that again. I'll not be expelled from Hogwarts."

He couldn't fault her logic, although it proved damned inconvenient. "I shall call for a taxi. I'm sure the driver will carry it if he is well compensated."

For one hundred pounds, the taxi driver would have been willing to move much more than a school trunk and empty owl cage. In fact, once he had seen Snape's cane, he was more than happy to help with the heavy lifting. In the afternoon traffic, it took almost an hour to reach Spinner's End, but Severus had taken the precaution of securing a large amount of money, pounds and knuts, before leaving St. Mungo's.

Once the taxi driver had finished thanking him and Miss Potter's belongings were safely sitting in the entryway, Severus Snape locked the front door and sank unceremoniously to the floor. He had exerted himself more that afternoon than he had since his injury, and his muscles were trembling with fatigue. It was impossible to stand long enough to make it to the den.

His uncharacteristic actions frightened poor Rose to such a degree that she knelt beside him, uselessly wringing her hands as she begged him to be okay.

"I am t-t-tired, M-m-m-miss P-p-potter. D-do not c-c-c-concern y-y-yourself."

His stuttering tried both their patience, and he was grateful when the child had the bright idea to rummage through her trunk to retrieve a quill and a piece of parchment, although he wasn't certain he was up to writing at that moment. He needn't have worried. Quickly, she scrawled "yes" and "no" on separate sheets and placed them in his hands.

"Do you need me to call an ambulance?"

Scowling, he quickly held up the "no" parchment. The last place he needed to be was inside a Muggle hospital.

She blushed as the same thought belatedly occurred to her. "I guess I should have asked if you need to go back to St. Mungo's?"

Again, he held up the word 'no', although this time, the scowl disappeared. He really was too fatigued to keep up appearances at the moment.

"Is there anyone like a friend or neighbor you want me to contact?"

He hesitated. There were several people he could contact, but dismissed them all when he considered the girl's presence. There were no neighbors to speak of, and he had few friends—fewer still who could be trusted with Rose Potter's secrets. If she had not been involved, he would have immediately contacted Narcissa Malfoy. Then again, if Rose hadn't been involved, he would likely not have suffered from his disability in the first place. Regretfully, he held up the 'no' parchment once more.

"Are you sure, professor?"

Bad-tempered, this time he shook the parchment in her face.

"Okay, I get it," she complained, unthinkingly backing away a couple of inches. "I was just trying to help. Is there anything I can get you?"

For the first time, he brandished the "yes" parchment, although it necessitated a tedious round of twenty questions before he could convey his desire for a glass of water.

His scowl returned with a vengeance when she had to help him hold the glass. He was too weak to perform wandless magic, and his dignity suffered greatly as she helped him take a few sips. However, he was thankful for her assistance, and was therefore quite surprised when she began to mumble an awkward apology.

"I'm sorry, Professor. I know you don't like anyone seeing you like this. If I hadn't been in that stupid accident, my aunt wouldn't have contacted you. It's all my fault. I don't mean to be a burden."

He closed his eyes, extremely frustrated that he couldn't explain to her just how wrong she was. When he opened them again, he was covered with a woolen blanket that normally sat on the foot of his bed. It was dark, but he could see that the girl was curled up on the floor several feet away. Huddled under her school robe, she was shivering; the house was chilly no matter what the season. Pulling out his wand, he silently cast a Warming Charm on her makeshift blanket. In her sleep, she tightly latched onto her robe with her fists, burrowing her nose into the now cozy fabric.

Satisfied that she was more comfortable, he rose stiffly to his feet, pleasantly surprised that the time spent on the floor had not rendered him incapable of walking. His fatigue temporarily at bay, he slowly made his way up the stairs, cleaning the guest bedroom and nearby bathroom with a few flicks of his wand. Once that chore had been accomplished, he returned to the entryway and cast a Hover Charm on Rose's trunk, guiding it to her temporary bedroom. Only then did he gently wake her.

"Rose, it's late. While I appreciate your assistance, you should go to bed. There is much to discuss in the morning."

She was too groggy to protest. Following him blearily, she caught sight of the bed and made a beeline for it. Before he could suggest she change, she was snoring gently, the covers pulled to her chin. Fighting contradictory emotions, he doused the light and haltingly made his way to his own room. There was definitely much to discuss in the morning.


	4. First Name Basis

Severus slept well in spite of himself. He had simply been too exhausted to keep his eyes open the night before, much less think straight. After a hurried shower early that morning, he sat in his outdated, avocado-colored Formica kitchen sipping a cup of very strong coffee as he tried to think rationally about Rose's situation.

He hadn't been thinking all that rationally the day before, but he would not waste time regretting his subsequent actions when he knew there had been no alternative. Petunia was too conflicted to be the best guardian at the moment, and Vernon's absence was only temporary. He had promised to keep Lily's child safe, and number four, Privet Drive, was most assuredly not safe.

He readily acknowledged, however, that Rose could not live with him on a permanent basis. For two years he had belittled her in class, ruining any chance he had ever had to befriend the poor girl. Her natural distrust of him meant that he was not the best person to meet her emotional needs at the moment. More importantly, she needed a mother figure as much as a father figure considering what had happened to her. Closing his eyes, he mentally ran down the list of all the women with whom he was on a first name basis.

Narcissa Malfoy. He immediately smirked at the thought. Albus would most likely have a heart attack if he ever discovered that the girl who lived resided with a Death Eater family, no matter that Narcissa was a decent human being who had unfortunately married a pompous, arrogant, sorry excuse for a wizard. While he had no doubt that Narcissa would dote on Rose, Lucius' presence altogether precluded that scenario. Besides, the girl and Draco hexed each other so often that he had been on occasion tempted to shout out that they should just kiss and be done with it. No, the Malfoy's wouldn't do at all.

Poppy Pomfrey. While the matron would be an excellent mother figure for Rose, she wasn't strong enough to resist Dumbledore's machinations. If she'd been stronger, she never would have let the Headmaster Obliviate Rose in the first place. Besides, she resided at Hogwarts over the summers, and students simply weren't allowed to live there except during the school term. So, scratch her off the list.

Minerva McGonagall. Most of the reasons Madame Pomfrey was unsuitable applied to Minerva as well. Although he knew she could stand up to Albus better than Poppy, he did not want the Headmaster aware of the fact that he had temporary guardianship of Rose Potter if it could be avoided. McGonagall would serve as an excellent mentor during the school year, but she could not be entrusted with Rose's permanent care.

His reasoning also disqualified the rest of the female teachers at Hogwarts, and he was rapidly coming to the end of a very short list. He wracked his brain for another fifteen minutes before he came to the obvious conclusion—Molly Weasley. With a groan, he began to list the pros and cons in his head.

Molly and Arthur had both been Order members during Voldemort's reign of terror, and after the troubles Bill and Charlie Weasley had given him at Hogwarts, he was definitely on a first name basis with them. While older than Lily and James, they had known the Potters well and could talk to Rose about both her parents more objectively than he. Molly was the mother of seven children, and certainly one more wouldn't make much of a difference. Just as importantly, she would be appalled when he finished confessing the nature of Rose's so-called accident. He was sure he would be able to count on her silence, and by extension, Arthur's as well.

Yes, Molly Weasley would do nicely. The only drawback was being forced to put up with her inevitable attempts to mother him. For Rose's wellbeing, however, he could suffer yet another affront to his dignity.

* * *

><p>"You're taking me to the Weasleys'?"<p>

Why was the girl questioning him? Warily, he wondered if he'd come to the wrong conclusion. Perhaps she and Ginny were not the fast friends he thought they were. Perhaps the Weasley boy had said something insensitive to hurt her feelings, although he should have been nothing but grateful for her actions.

"Is there someplace you'd rather stay for the rest of the holidays? The Grangers', perhaps?"

Flushing, she shook her head. "No, sir. I just didn't think . . . ."

"Of course you didn't," he chided gently. "But, it would be inappropriate for you to stay at my home at this time. Besides, I thought you might prefer staying with your friends?"

"Oh, yes, Professor! Thank you!" Stammering over her words, she tried to explain. "Not that I wouldn't have appreciated staying with you. It's just that the Weasleys are so much nicer . . . I mean, they're happier . . . um, I just meant—"

He cut off her explanation with a disdainful sniff. "I know what you mean, Miss Potter. They have children your age, and it is only natural for you to wish to spend time with your friends. I understand that you are good friends with the twins and Ginerva Weasley as well as Ronald, are you not?"

"Yes, sir," she gushed, not believing her good fortune. "In fact, Fred and George were the ones who rescued me last year when Uncle Vernon locked me in my room and fed me through the cat flap."

"When. He. Fed. You. Through. The. Cat. Flap." He bit out every word, trying and failing to hide his revulsion.

Clearly uncomfortable, she studied her shoelaces. "It wasn't that bad. I got a tin of soup every day, although Hedwig didn't like eating soggy vegetables."

He had to remind himself that he was a Slytherin before he exploded in a display of righteous anger. He cursed himself for being a fool. Why hadn't he uncovered the abuse earlier? He was supposed to be protecting her, for Merlin's sake.

Knowing from painful experience that she would consider almost any remark he made to be a judgment, he chose his words with care. "Then I am sure you will find your stay at the Weasleys' doubly enjoyable. If nothing else, Mrs. Weasley is known for her cooking.

The poor girl looked up at him with obvious gratitude. Vernon Dursley and her treatment at his hands was a topic she definitely did not want discuss. "Oh, yes, Professor. Mrs. Weasley's a really good cook."

"It's settled, then," he said with a finality that even she couldn't mistake. Correctly interpreting his tone as a dismissal, she left his book-filled living room to watch an old, portable television in her bedroom. It was a privilege she rarely received, and didn't bother to wonder why he would have a Muggle appliance in his house as she flipped through the channels to find a football match. While not as exciting as Quidditch, she quite liked a good game of football, and she briefly wished she could attend a game before allowing herself to become engrossed in the match.

* * *

><p>Flooing to the Burrow, Severus thanked fate that the Weasleys had returned from their trip to Egypt the week before. Molly had been more than agreeable when he suggested Rose visit until the start of school, although she had pursed her lips in a thoughtful frown when he had mentioned that there were a few things he would like to discuss with her beforehand.<p>

As soon as he and Rose arrived, he became the center of most unwanted attention. The plump Weasley matriarch gasped in shock as she took in his cane and almost skeletal appearance. Even Arthur appeared to be taken aback.

"Severus! What happened? Are you alright?"

He noticed Rose had opened her mouth to give her opinion on the subject. Afraid of what she might say, he answered quickly.

"I am much better than I was. I had the misfortune to be involved in an accident. Thankfully, the healers at St. Mungo's are very skilled, and my limp is the most troubling consequence." Arrogantly, he added, "My faculties remain sound, and my skills are still formidable."

Ron spoke unthinkingly. "What sort of accident?"

Severus gave him a stern look of contempt, and the youngest Weasley son took a terrified step backwards.

"Ronald Weasley!" Molly hissed. "How many times have I told you not to ask impertinent questions?"

Ron mumbled an apology while Snape considered his options. In his mind there was only one plausible explanation, though it wounded his pride to use it.

"It was a potion's accident, if you must know, Mr. Weasley. Now, perhaps, you'll understand why I stress the need for paying attention in class."

Ron gulped, his eyes going wide. "Yes, Professor."

As Molly continued to fuss, Snape noticed that the younger Weasleys pulled Rose upstairs, no doubt to interrogate her as to why she was in the company of her slimy git of a Potions' professor. He bit back a sigh of frustration, wishing he could escape Molly's henpecking so easily.

However, as much as he wished to return to Spinner's End and sleep until the start of term, he needed to cement a strong relationship with the Molly and Arthur for Rose's sake. He couldn't chance them discussing Miss Potter's home life with the Headmaster. When he was invited to stay for lunch, he accepted with something resembling an appreciative smile—for him at any rate.

"Severus, I believe you wished to speak to us privately?"

Snape regarded Arthur in a new light. The man was not the scatterbrained imbecile he sometimes seemed. His expression was troubled as he had no doubt concluded there was more to Rose's visit than met the eye. Besides, his reminder silenced his wife like nothing else could, and for that, Severus would be eternally grateful.

"I take it you have somewhere in this house that is safe from prying ears?"

He hadn't meant to insult the size of their home, but he briefly wondered if it had been taken that way when Arthur momentarily stiffened.

"My study is charmed against childish curiosity, although I'm afraid it will be somewhat cramped for the three of us. Ministry salary isn't all it's cracked up to be."

Ah. So he had insulted Arthur. He vowed to be more careful. It seemed Ronald Weasley wasn't the only redhead defensive about the lack of personal wealth.

"I'm sure your study will be fine," he assured the wizard with as much sincerity he could muster.

Sitting on a wobbly wooden chair, Snape decided that Arthur Weasley's study was bigger than a broom closet, but not by much. His knees brushed the couple's again and again, but he decided to ignore the forced familiarity to focus on the task at hand.

They waited expectantly, and he got straight to the point. "What I have to say cannot leave this room. I will not insult you by requiring a vow of silence, but if you care for Miss Potter at all, you will speak of this to no one. This includes Albus Dumbledore. Do I have your agreement?

Their backs straightened at the mention of Albus' name, and the two shared a troubled look.

"Does this have anything to do with the reason why you brought Rose to our house, Severus?"

He inclined his head towards Arthur. "It does."

His answer opened the floodgates, and the usually cheerful Molly Weasley began to rant. "Well, it's high time someone took notice of Rose's home life! What those Muggles do to her is outright abuse! I thought Ron was joking when he wrote and told me that she had spent her childhood living in a cupboard under the stairs, but I asked the poor girl point blank last summer, and she admitted that she had received her first Hogwarts letter with that address imprinted upon it. Last year they practically starved her! Do you know how thin she was when Fred and George finally took it into their heads to check on her? Let me tell you—"

Mr. Weasley gently put a hand on his wife's arm. Coloring slightly, she immediately snapped her mouth closed. "I think what Molly is trying to say, Severus, is that you can count on our discretion. What you tell us won't leave this room."

"Good," he answered distractedly, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Rose Potter had been forced to spend most of her childhood in a cupboard. As they continued to stare at him in expectation, he cleared his throat and began.

"The evening of Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban, I went to Surrey to check on Miss Potter's safety. It was somewhat late when I arrived, but her relatives did not know where their niece was, nor did they particularly care. They made their feelings about her clear to me, and then their son confessed that he believed some of his so-called friends had decided to teach her a lesson.

He paused, gathering his courage. Facing the Dark Lord had been easier than revealing the horrors of that night. "It took me an hour to find her. She had been beaten to the point of death, brutally raped and left like rubbish behind a tree."

Molly gave an inarticulate gasp, but Arthur gripped her tightly and nodded for Severus to continue. Words failed him, however. He was forced to take a deep, calming breath. The image of Rose's broken body filled his mind, and no amount of Occulemcy could clear it. His left hand trembled as he grimly finished his tale.

"I was attacked by a feral dog while I determined if she could be safely moved. However, I managed to take her to the infirmary at Hogwarts where Poppy cared for her. Unfortunately, my head injury was severe enough to trigger an aneurysm that ruptured soon afterwards. I have spent the last month in St. Mungo's learning how to walk again."

"Oh that poor, poor child! I can't imagine what she's been through. She must be horribly traumatized. And you, Severus! You're lucky to be alive as well. Of course we're more than happy to take her in."

His face tightened into a scowl as she interrupted, although he couldn't chide her for her emotional response. Even he had been horrified by Rose's ordeal.

"There's more, isn't there?" Arthur guessed quietly as he noticed the look on his guest's face.

"I'm afraid so. While I was incapacitated, the Headmaster decided that it was in the best interest of the wizarding world for the girl who lived not to remember her attack. He feared that if it were to come to light that she had been attacked by Muggles, it could set back Muggle-Wizard relations a hundred years. He Obliviated her memories of the event without Madame Pomfrey's consent, and returned her to her aunt and uncle. As soon as I was released from St. Mungo's, I immediately went to Little Whinging to see how she fared. After some discussion with her aunt, it was decided that I would become her temporary guardian."

Molly Weasley's eyes smoldered with fire, although she spoke more quietly this time. "Memory modification is dangerous at the best of times. Has Albus finally cracked?"

"No, Molly," her husband answered gravely before Severus could frame a reply. "I'm afraid the Headmaster has not cracked. I fear, however, that he is keen to avoid controversy at all costs."

"But, she's just a child! She'll suffer the emotional scars and won't understand why. What was Dumbledore thinking? "

"Clearly, he was not," Snape flatly replied. "Which is why I've asked for your silence." Softening his tone, he added, "And, I understand if you do not feel you can shoulder this burden at this time. If you cannot meet Rose's particular needs until the beginning of term, I shall find another arrangement."

"Severus Snape, don't you dare! Rose is like a daughter to me. If I had thought those Muggle guardians of hers would have given permission, I would have taken her with us on holiday to Egypt." Tearing up, she added with a sniff, "Oh, Arthur, I wish I had. If we had taken her, she wouldn't have been attacked."

"She doesn't remember it," Severus warned, belatedly wondering if Molly Weasley was too kindhearted to deal with something so traumatic.

"I know. That's what makes this so difficult. The memories would be bad enough, but at least the child would know why she feels the way she does. How is her emotional state, Severus?"

That question brought him up short. How was Rose's current emotional state? And, knowing how badly he had previously misjudged her, how could he possibly know what to compare it to?

"She has been subdued," he answered after a pause. "Even Petunia noticed."

Surprisingly, it was Arthur who asked the question he dreaded. "Do you believe her to be depressed, Severus?"

"I do not know," he reluctantly admitted. "She seemed happy enough when she discovered she would be spending the rest of the summer here, but she spent most of the morning staring out the window. While I do not know Miss Potter very well, I believe her introspection to be unusual."

Again, Arthur surprised him with his insight. "Yes, normally, she acts much more like a rambunctious tomboy than a thoughtful little girl. No doubt the relative freedom of Hogwarts goes to her head after the constraints her relatives place upon her."

"I had not considered that," he allowed. He didn't bother to admit that he hadn't previously considered Rose's home life at all, save for assuming that she had been raised to be a spoiled, disrespectful brat. Arthur and Molly didn't need to know all his shortcomings. Bad enough that they had to be privy to Rose's secret.

Molly put her hand on his arm, and it was all he could do not to flinch at the unexpected touch. "We'll take care of her, Severus. I promise you."

"Thank you, Molly," he managed to say without choking on her overly sentimental tone. It was almost as if she were treating him as Rose's . . . . Well, he supposed he was her guardian now. He hadn't really thought about the ramifications of having Petunia sign that particular piece of paper. He'd only wanted it as insurance in case Dumbledore attempted to mistreat the child again.

When they exited Arthur's cramped study, Fred and George happened to be nearby, loudly discussing the best strategy to de-gnome the yard. Snape wasn't fooled for a minute. They had obviously been trying to eavesdrop, but judging from the expressions on their faces, they had been unsuccessful. They were much too cheery to have heard the truth.

Somehow, he made it through lunch without going insane. For the most part, he remained silent, listening to the chaotic conversation that necessarily erupted in such a large family. When someone addressed him, he replied tersely, and after a few attempts by Molly to draw him out, he was left in relative peace.

The only truly uncomfortable note to the taxing day was Rose's obvious reluctance to let him out of her sight. She kept asking him inane questions in a pathetic attempt to lengthen his visit, no matter how caustically he answered her. Even Molly finally picked up on the girl's anxiety, and politely, but firmly, bid him a good day, promising to send him regular updates by owl.

Free of the Burrow at last, Severus Apparated not to Spinner's End, but Little Whinging. He should have taken care of Arabella Figg's memory straight off, but even he acknowledged it would have been impossible considering his exhaustion. The Squib was more than happy to receive him, and he immediately Confunded her as he crossed her threshold. When he left ten minutes later, he was certain that Albus hadn't yet questioned her, and she was under the impression that Rose still resided at the Dursleys.

With great reluctance, he refrained from visiting Rose's so called family. He was still fatigued; his limp was more pronounced; and his muscles trembled with weakness. It was not the proper time to take his revenge on Vernon Dursley or the thugs who had hurt Miss Potter so badly.

One day, however, he would have no such constraints, and on that day, the pathetic lump of a bully would be taught a very painful lesson along with the gang that had dared touch Rose. With a last, cold glance at the tidy houses on Privet Drive, he returned to Spinner's End where he promptly collapsed on his bed, asleep within seconds of his head hitting the pillow.


	5. Dumbledore and the Dicta Quill

Author's Notes - I hope everyone who's reading is enjoying the story so far. Reviews are always appreciated.

* * *

><p>Severus woke abruptly to the sound of an insistent alarm. Understanding that someone was calling him by floo, he wondered why he had slept in his robes as he stood up to answer the call. When his left leg crumpled underneath him, he silently cursed, recalling the events of the previous month in a rush. Grabbing his cane, he limped down the stairs, his mood not improved by the reminder of his physical weakness.<p>

Reaching the den, he saw the shape of Albus Dumbledore's head in the fire and swallowed a cold lump of fear. The next few minutes would be crucial.

"Yes, Albus?" he called in as neutral voice as he could muster.

"May I come through, Severus?"

"If you insist, Headmaster." The test had well and truly begun.

Dumbledore wore turquoise robes edged in magenta, and Snape couldn't help but sneer at the man's fashion sense. Since this was quite in character, the Headmaster took little notice.

"Severus," he began, his voice taking on a timber of solicitousness, although there was an underlying tone of wariness that couldn't be hidden from one who had served as a spy for half his life. "I have been most worried about you. St. Mungo's informed me this morning that you had been released the day before yesterday. I had hoped you would return to your quarters at Hogwarts so you wouldn't have to be alone during your recovery. Most of the rest of the staff have already returned."

He allowed himself to momentarily wallow in self-pity as he sardonically replied. "Why would you think I am eager to expose myself to ridicule two weeks earlier than necessary? Alone is the only place where I am not forced to endure prying eyes, Albus. I am a Potions Master who must pretend that he has been crippled due to his own negligence. Or had you thought of some other plausible explanation for the reason I must rely upon a cane to walk?"

The Headmaster looked pained. "Unfortunately, I have not, Severus. I'm afraid that an explosion in the Potions lab is the most plausible explanation for your injuries."

He paused a moment, taking in the dingy furnishings of Snape's home. When he spoke again, his voice was filled with regret. "I am sorry, Severus, for a great many things. Were it not for the need to keep Miss Potter's attack a secret, I would wish the world to know of your bravery that night. You have done more than could ever be expected to protect Lily's child."

Snape's voice whipped with cold fury and self-flagellation. "My injuries are no more than I deserve. I failed to protect Miss Potter, and I will regret that until the day I die."

Then, he brought up the subject they had both been avoiding with the same enraged passion. "But, what you did to her, Albus, was unconscionable. Minerva told me that you Obliviated the girl's memory of the event. You, better than most, know that the emotional scars of that night will not heal after what you did. You have practically crippled the child at a time when Sirius Black seeks her death."

Thoughtfully, the older wizard regarded his spy, and Severus knew with the utmost certainty that he was skirting the edge of insubordination.

"Sometimes, Severus, it is a blessing to forget."

There was something about Dumbledore's eyes in that instant that sent a shiver of fear down Snape's spine. He had seen the man jovial, triumphant, sad, even enraged, but he had never, ever seen his face filled with that much pain. And, then, his bright blue eyes were twinkling once more, and Snape began to wonder if he had imagined the entire incident.

"Besides," Dumbledore continued, "Rose will return to school in a few short weeks. There she will be among friends, who no doubt will help her through any emotional trauma resulting from that night. And, Black will not be an issue. The Ministry has insisted on placing Dementors at Hogwarts. The child will be safe and free from further harm."

If anything, Snape's rage grew. "Dementors? You allowed the Ministry to place Dementors in the school? How c-could y-you?"

As he gritted his teeth in fury and shame, Dumbledore's entire demeanor abruptly changed. Suddenly, their argument was forgotten. He approached the younger man as one might a wounded animal, concern and compassion shining from face. Gently, he placed his hand on Snape's shoulder.

"Severus? Just how badly were you injured? Your Healer wasn't very forthcoming."

He tried to be snide, but even he realized that it was a pitiful attempt, especially when his anxiety caused his stutter to worsen. "You need n-not c-c-concern yourself, H-headmaster. I am still a-able to t-teach. M-my d-d-days as a s-s-spy may be o-over, b-b-b-b-but I am n-not c-completely useless."

Squeezing his shoulder in sympathy, Dumbledore was the picture of regret. "I am truly sorry. I had no idea. You have served me well these many a year, and your disability in no way diminishes that fact. Perhaps it is for the best that your days as a spy are over. You need no longer hide your true self in order to remain in good standing with the remaining Death Eaters. I shall find another spy, but I could never find a better man than the one standing before me."

So great was his shock that he sank weakly onto the threadbare chair behind him, burying his face in his hands. He felt Albus patting his back, but he barely heard the words the man said to him.

"My dear boy, I wish one day that you could know your own worth. I must attend a Wizengot meeting tomorrow, but I shall have Professor McGonagall stop by to bring you the minutes from yesterday's staff meeting. There is something in them about which I would appreciate your opinion. And, Minerva regrets your last parting. I hope you two can come to amicable resolution to your disagreement before the beginning of term. I know full well that you believe me to be in error in regards to Miss Potter, but it is done, and I beg you not to take out your frustration on a fellow teacher when the responsibility rests squarely on my shoulders."

Nodding morosely, he watched Albus Dumbledore stride to the fireplace, his ridiculous robes swirling behind him. As the older wizard picked up some floo powder, he turned to face him. This time, the blue eyes were hard and steely.

"Oh, and Severus, let me assure you that no Dementor shall set foot in Hogwarts for as long as I'm Headmaster. The creatures are relegated to the outer perimeter, where they will stay to serve as a deterrent, nothing more."

He didn't get a chance to reply as the Headmaster flooed back to Hogwarts in a smoky flash. Sitting alone in the tiny room, Snape was torn. The great Albus Dumbledore had just declared him to be a good man, a man that mattered without regard to his usefulness to the Order. And yet, he was nothing more than a broken shell of what he had been, woefully inadequate and crippled in mind and body.

Worse, he was actively working against his mentor's interests, exposing Miss Potter's secrets to the Weasleys and interfering in the Chosen One's life in a way the man would most heartily condemn. If not for the vision of Lily and her warning that he would have to keep Rose safe from friend and foe alike, he would have bolted after Albus and begged forgiveness for his disloyalty. As it was, he spent the rest of the day in tortured introspection, weighing his past transgressions with his present pathetic attempts at keeping his promises to both the dead and the living. In that regard, he was certain he came up very short.

* * *

><p>Severus Snape drank an Invigoration Draught with his morning toast. While not the best hangover cure in the wizarding world, it was the only thing suitable he had on hand. The realization that he had lost an entire summer of brewing merely added to his foul mood. Worse, he had drunk himself into a stupor the previous night, something that hadn't occurred in almost fifteen years.<p>

He might have spent the morning in guilty recriminations, but the knowledge that Minerva McGonagall would be appearing at some point during the day already had him in a state of temper. Apologizing was one of the many things he despised, and he was well aware that he owed his friend and colleague a heartfelt apology. She would be well within her right to reject it considering the foul accusations he had hurled at her while recovering at St. Mungo's.

His fireplace flared to life late that morning. Decently dressed and as ready to face the indomitable Head of Gryffindor House as he would ever be, Severus quickly invited her to step through. He watched as she took in the ragged state of his sitting room before settling her eyes on him. Her face was a rigid mask, and he feared that she would not bother listening to his apology. Hastily, he began to speak.

"Minerva—"

She immediately cut him off. "Severus, before you say another word, please hear me out. I am not the young witch I once was. I have been a professor at Hogwarts for forty-one years, twenty-eight of which Albus Dumbledore has served as the Headmaster. While he and I have had our share of disagreements, I have never been as disappointed and as angry at that man as I was on the day he Obliviated Miss Potter. You were correct to call me a coward, however. As outraged as I was, I did nothing more than voice my displeasure before allowing myself to be persuaded that it was done for the greater good. I can only beg your forgiveness, and apologize for failing to protect the child for whom you sacrificed so much."

He didn't know whether to laugh, cry or faint in sheer relief. Thankfully, he did nothing of the sort. As blandly as he could, he pointed out, "Actually, Minerva, if you hadn't been such a bloody Gryffindor hell bent on being heard first, I would have been the one begging your forgiveness. Therefore, I can only conclude that we have already both forgiven the other.

Her lips curved into a pleased smile. "Well, I see like any good Slytherin, Severus, you didn't feel the need to interrupt me. I thank you for it, for you truly had nothing for which to apologize. However, if you call me a crone ever again, I just might be provoked to hex you into next week.

Seeing a grin flit across his face, she added forbiddingly, "And don't think I can't do it, Severus Snape."

"I would never presume such," he answered silkily, relieved beyond belief. More than ready to change the subject, he added, "I believe the Headmaster mentioned that you would have a copy of yesterday's staff meeting for me?"

She handed him a piece of parchment that easily had to be thirty feet long. Obviously the Black situation and the presence of the Dementors had been discussed in detail. Briefly, he wondered if Albus had been callous enough to mention Miss Potter's attack, but Professor McGonagall seemed to be thinking along the same lines, answering the question before it could be asked.

"He respected Rose's privacy, Severus, at least with the rest of the staff. There was no mention of the attack at all. Most of the meeting was necessarily spent discussing the presence of the Dementors on the grounds, and introducing Remus Lupin as the new Defense against the Dark Arts professor."

The parchment crumpled in his tightened fist. "The Headmaster is allowing the wolf to teach?"

She winced at his tone and all it implied. "Remus is not a threat to the students. He will be taking the Wolfsbane potion each month. It is unfair to condemn him for something over which he has no control."

Suddenly, Snape's fury with Dumbledore rekindled. The man had left a subordinate to be the bearer of bad news. Surely the Headmaster understood his feelings towards Lupin? He had been a Marauder, responsible for making his life at Hogwarts a living hell, even before the incident in the Shrieking Shack. It did not matter that Lupin rarely instigated the bullying. He had been a Prefect; it had been his duty to put a stop to it.

How could Albus allow such a dangerous creature to teach? Why would the Headmaster force him to face his tormentor on a daily basis? Why would he saddle him with the task of brewing the Wolfsbane Potion? It was a complicated brew, requiring patience and attention to detail.

Worse, the wolf was a friend of Black's. Surely Dumbledore knew there was a risk that Lupin was an ally of Lily's betrayer. What if he let Black into the castle? How could he protect Rose if someone was working against him from within?

"Lupin is a werewolf! Of course he's a threat! If he forgets to take his dose just once, we would have a bloodthirsty beast loose in the castle! One bite and he would subject lycanthropy on another unfortunate soul!"

McGonagall stubbornly weathered his tirade before attacking his reasoning. Her voice shrill, she defended her former student. "Severus Snape, you know very well that Remus would rather die than infect another person with lycanthropy. I realize that you two have a history—"

"A history? He w-would have k-killed m-me!"

Appalled that he had let his weakness show yet again, Snape took an involuntary step backwards, his face flushing with shame.

"Severus?"

Wishing he could run out the door of his own home and never look back, Snape unwillingly met her gaze. "My apologies, P-Professor. I f-find emotional outbursts to be somewhat d-d-draining. I s-shall look over the m-minutes of the meeting and owl you if I have any q-questions."

Of course, the bloody stupid Gryffindor refused to take the hint. Instead, she placed her hand on his arm, much like Albus had. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was much too gentle. He tried his best to sneer, but even he knew that his countenance was no more than a pained grimace.

"I am sorry that Black and Potter were not reprimanded more severely. I know what they did was reprehensible. Remus, however, had no knowledge of the prank nor could he control himself in that terrible situation. Now he can. Shouldn't we give him a chance? After Lockhart and Quirrel, the students need a Defense teacher who can actually teach them Defense."

He knew better than to argue. Minerva did not see the wolf as a potential threat, and would not welcome any questions of his loyalty. Keeping a close eye on Hogwarts' newest professor and brewing the Wolfsbane Potion himself was the best he could do to ensure Rose's safety. Therefore, he would have to accept the situation for the time being. If the wolf proved false, however, nothing would stop the Potions Master from killing him this time.

Occluding his mind, he focused on staying calm and enunciating clearly. "I cannot argue against your logic, much it pains me to admit. I will, of course, begin brewing immediately."

His capitulation seemed to greatly affect the tartan-clad witch, who awkwardly patted his arm before walking briskly to the fireplace. "Remus will be a competent teacher, Severus; you'll see. Who knows? Perhaps he'll manage to stay more than a year. The students could certainly use some continuity."

"Perhaps," he allowed as he watched her floo away.

There was no chance in hell that the wolf would stay for more than a year. Dumbledore had long ago confided that the position was cursed, although he had not deemed it necessary to inform the other teachers. At best, Lupin's secret would be revealed, and he would be forced to resign. At worst, the year would end in horrific tragedy. Since the worst was unthinkable, he took his cane to make his way to his private Potions' lab. He needed to begin the Wolfsbane potion immediately if it were to be ready by the full moon. The account of the staff meeting would have to wait.

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><p>In the end, Severus was glad that he had spent the entire afternoon and early evening brewing. It made him too exhausted to floo to Dumbledore in righteous anger after reading the minutes of the meeting he had missed. The Dicta Quill had taken down everything said verbatim, and the Headmaster had had much to say.<p>

Dumbledore had announced to the staff that he, Severus Snape, the youngest Potions Master in recorded history, had been severely injured in an accident involving an experimental potion to counter the effects of Memory Charms. Was he sending some sort of oblique warning? There were no potions to reverse Memory Charms, especially Obliviation. He knew better than to make the attempt, especially by using Rose Potter as the guinea pig.

Then, the Headmaster had offhandedly remarked that the accident had left him with permanent deficits, most notably to his gross motor skills and speech. That was at least eight hours prior to their meeting, a meeting in which Dumbledore had seemed surprised and upset by Severus' stuttering. Why had he bothered to pretend as he had? Had he genuinely cared, or had he declared his admiration of his longtime spy in order to manipulate him once again?

As he stewed over Albus' latest machinations, he scanned the rest of the report, ready to dismiss it. He did not wish to read how his colleagues had welcomed the wolf with open arms, nor did he intend to let his guard down because the Headmaster had assured everyone that the Dementors couldn't possibly gain entry to the castle. Since Miss Potter's first year at Hogwarts, the impossible happened on a regular basis.

It was an off-hand remark in the last three feet of parchment that truly frightened him, however. No doubt his fellow teachers had dismissed it as another one of Sybil Trelawny's odd pronouncements, but ever since that fateful day when he had overheard her prophecy, he had always listened intently to whatever tripe she spouted. Unfortunately, this did not read like her usual tripe.

When asked about her curriculum for divination, she had inexplicably said, "The Grim will descend upon Hogwarts, and lifelong enemies must put aside their differences to protect the Chosen One from friend and foe alike, for the soul suckers will not stop the Dark Lord's servant from scampering about Hogwarts when and where he wills."

Minerva had chided, "Sybil, really," in that no-nonsense Scottish manner of hers, and Filius, Poppy and Pomona had quickly dismissed the pronouncement as the Divination teacher's usual flair for the dramatic.

Severus wished the Dicta Quill described people's expressions because he would have given anything to know Albus' reaction to that tiny snippet of prophecy. Only he and the Headmaster knew for certain that Rose was the Chosen One, and only he understood the reference to protecting her from friends and foes alike. The other parts were not so clear. Did the reference to the Grim mean that someone would die? Did he loathe Lupin enough to call him his lifelong enemy, meaning the two would be forced to work together as reluctant allies? And why would a loyal Death Eater be described as "scampering" around Hogwarts? The word made no sense—slink, maybe, or skulk, but scamper?

Finishing the report, he promptly burned it out of caution and disgust. He had been right in returning to Spinner's End instead of Hogwarts until the beginning of term, even if it had been for all the wrong reasons. There was no reason to suspect that Dumbledore knew that Miss Potter did not currently reside at Number Four, Privet Drive, nor did he have any inkling that the greasy git of the dungeons temporarily had guardianship of his most prized student. No, he was obviously too smitten with the idea of one of his former Marauders returning to teach to bother checking up on the girl. It was enough to make his stomach churn.

Forgoing dinner, Severus walked upstairs, hastily readied himself for bed, and fell asleep while reading a copy of his favorite Potions journal. He became fatigued all too easily these days, but luckily, there was no one to witness his weakness.


	6. The Start of Term Feast

Author's Notes - Thanks to Moi and SpencerReid for reviewing. I know many will be leery of a story where Harry's character is female, but I thank everyone who's given it the benefit of the doubt. Hope everyone continues to enjoy.

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><p>"Ah, Severus. Just the wizard I had hoped to see. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?"<p>

"Regrettfully, no," he answered with just enough derision to make Dumbledore aware that it was not a regret at all. "I—"

Bowling over whatever Snape had been about to say, he asked, "And, are your accommodations to your liking? Minerva transfigured the steps to your quarters into a ramp, and your bathtub into a shower and sauna. Poppy thought the steam might be of some benefit."

So that's who had breached his wards. He would have to compliment Minerva on her skill, with the bath, not the wards. No doubt Dumbledore had ordered the wards to his quarters removed temporarily in order to give the witch access.

"It is more than adequate, Headmaster. However, I wish—"

Dumbledore again interrupted as if the Potions Master had never spoken. "She did not, of course, alter your classroom or laboratory in any way. Do you require any special adjustments to either of those areas?"

Clenching his jaw tightly shut, he merely shook his head in negation. He would endure Albus' over solicitousness with good grace. (Or die trying, a snarky inner voice remarked.)

"Excellent," the elder wizard said briskly. "Now that I have ascertained that you are reasonably comfortable, perhaps it is time to address the real reason you came to see me."

If he had been anyone than Professor Severus Snape, he would have gaped at the wizard's audacity. As it was, he forced himself to count to ten, and then twenty, before he sat upon a small couch that was much too ornate for comfort.

"You know why I'm here, Albus. Sybil Trelawny has seemingly earned her pay for once, and I would like to know your thoughts."

"My interpretation of the new prophecy, you mean?"

His face muscles twitched as he made a last ditch attempt to control his temper. "Fine. Your interpretation, then."

Immediately, the teasing twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes extinguished, replaced with undeniable concern. "The prophecy is troubling, my boy. I won't pretend otherwise. The Grim can only mean a foreshadowing of death, but to whom and in what circumstance, I do not know."

"But, certainly, Headmaster, it refers to Rose. We both know that she is the Chosen One. Who else would a loyal servant of the Dark Lord target?"

"Rose, Severus? I do not recall you calling Miss Potter 'Rose' before today."

The twinkle had returned, but behind it, the powerful wizard's obvious question drifted unspoken on the air.

Snape suddenly wished he hadn't taken a seat. Dumbledore was still standing, towering over him in ridiculous purple robes embroidered with silver stars. Unflinchingly meeting his gaze, he revealed as much truth as he dared.

"I admit that in the past I might have harbored some feelings of ill will towards Miss Potter. I made certain assumptions regarding her childhood and her behavior. However, even I can admit to being wrong at times, Albus. The child has grown up neglected and abused—emotionally if not physically. Such knowledge necessarily changes the way in which I regard her behavior. She is not arrogant like her father, but has been forced to mature at an very early age. What I saw as rebellion against authority is nothing more than a little freedom gone to her head. I regret that my prejudices did not allow me to see that much earlier."

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore blinked, completely taken by surprise. If there was one constant in Severus Snape's life, it was his hatred of James Potter, and his loathing of the child that, in his mind, should have been his.

"I am proud of you, Severus. It seems you are ready to let go of the past. I was hoping that something like this could occur as you and Remus are obviously the two lifelong enemies who must put aside your differences in order to protect Rose."

Snape had already drawn the same conclusion, but that did not mean he was ready to willingly accept it. "You do realize what you're asking? Lupin would have torn me from limb to limb. He's a bloody werewolf, for Merlin's sake! How do you expect me to do the impossible, old man? Should I take a page from your book and offer him sweets?"

"Well, Remus does have a certain weakness for chocolate."

"Headmaster!"

His sunny disposition disappeared as quickly as his trite joke. "My apologies, Severus. I know this will not be easy for you. I had hoped that if you could begin to forgive James, that compassion for Remus would be somewhat easier. After all, he had no knowledge of Sirius' prank, nor could he control his actions of that night."

Severus wanted to make one thing absolutely clear before he exploded with frustration and pent up rage. With a derisive sniff, he explained. "I have not, nor will I ever, forgive James Potter. He was an arrogant, conceited prig who took pleasure in tormenting those he deemed beneath him. I merely said that I should not have allowed my memories of him to cloud my judgment of Rose. She is her mother's daughter as much as his."

With that, Dumbledore's worldview settled into something more familiar, and he smiled benevolently. "Then you have truly matured this summer, my boy. Perhaps forgiving James is beyond your abilities, but Remus was innocent in the prank Sirius Black played."

Biting the inside of his cheek, he didn't trust himself to reply. How dare Albus say that forgiving James was beyond his abilities, as if he were lacking in some way. What Potter and Black had put him through was beyond forgivable. Why couldn't the Headmaster see that?

Knowing Dumbledore waited patiently for a response, he finally nodded. Weary of the conversation, for the first time he used his infirmity to his advantage. "As m-much as it p-p-pains me to s-say, the w-w-w-olf was n-not to b-b-blame."

The pleased expression on his mentor's face was immediately tempered by sympathy for his stutter. "I am relieved to hear it. Then, perhaps the prophecy is not as daunting as it first appears. However, it is obvious that you are fatigued. We shall discuss the interpretation of the rest of the prophecy at a later date."

"I am t-tired, Albus."

"Then by all means get some rest, Severus. Stop pushing yourself so hard. You have been out of St. Mungo's for less than a week. Give your recovery some time. I'm sure I could find a substitute Potions instructor if you need to take some time off after the beginning of term.

His face flushed with anger. He didn't care if he had to crawl to his classes. No one was going to replace him, even temporarily. This time, his stutter was completely involuntary.

"I w-w-will be r-r-r-ready. Do not dare r-replace me."

"A substitute until you are stronger, Severus, never a replacement."

Emphatically, he shook his head in negation, and Dumbledore was forced to concede the argument.

"Very well, but only if you truly rest until the beginning of term. I do not wish to see you back at Hogwarts until the day of the Sorting, is that understood?"

This time he nodded, and the Headmaster appeared to be greatly relieved. Just before he flung the floo powder into the fireplace, however, Dumbledore stopped him with a warning.

"Oh, and Severus, I realize that you might wish to take some measure of retribution against the Muggles who did such a terrible thing to Rose and, perhaps, Vernon Dursley as well. I strongly counsel against such a course of action. If caught, you would be sent to Azkaban, and I'm afraid I would be unable to sway the Wizengot this time. They have always taken a very dim view of vigilantism. Do I make myself clear?

"Perfectly," he managed to grind out without stuttering.

"Wonderful. Then, I expect to see you the evening of the Welcoming Feast."

Disappearing in a flash of green powder, Snape sullenly wondered why the Headmaster always seemed to get the last word.

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><p>Professor Severus Snape limped into the Great Hall, his temper barely in check. He had overslept and missed the Sorting before Albus had thought to send his patronus to inform him of his tardiness. Everyone was sure to stare at his ungainly entrance, and he would no doubt be the subject of vicious ridicule for days on end.<p>

Quickly scanning the Gryffindor table, however, his anger rapidly dissipated to be replaced by potent fear. Rose Potter, along with Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger, were missing from the Welcoming Feast. Scanning the rest of the tables in the name of thoroughness, he noted the absence of the wolf.

Since Dumbledore had ordered Lupin to take the train to Hogwarts as an extra measure of protection for the students, his absence did not bode well. Resisting the impulse to demand Rose's whereabouts from Albus, he quietly took his place next to Minerva, too preoccupied to notice the whispers and stares his entrance had provoked.

"Where is she?" he hissed, his anxiety overcoming his natural caution.

She didn't pretend to misunderstand. "In the infirmary. The dementors searched the train, and she lost consciousness. Remus wasn't able to revive her. Poppy's questioning Miss Weasley and Miss Granger since they were in the compartment with her."

He was halfway out of his chair before he felt a restraining hand on his arm. Glancing at McGonagall, he nodded and sat heavily in his seat. He barely heard Albus' warnings to the students about the presence of the dementors, nor did he notice Hagrid's introduction as the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher. He snapped to attention, however, when the wizard announced his injury and its supposed cause, asking the students to please bear with him as he regained his strength.

His face burned with shame as the hated whispers grew to a rumble. Glaring at anyone who dared meet his gaze, he did his best to quell the gossip by the force of his sneer. He was only partially successful.

The feast itself dragged as his thoughts dwelled on Rose Potter. Had one of the dark creatures touched her? Had their presence abruptly unleashed the very memories the Headmaster had attempted to erase? What, exactly, could cause such a marked reaction in a child so young?

The very instant that Dumbledore dismissed the students, he grabbed his cane, stomping as quickly as he could towards the infirmary. Finding Rose lying on the bed pale and limp, still unconscious, he barked irately at the mediwitch.

"What have you discovered? Was she touched by one of those creatures? Why is she still unconscious? Exactly what happened on the train? And, where the hell was Lupin?"

Before Poppy could open her mouth, a tired voice answered from behind him. "I was in the compartment with her, Severus. I can assure you the dementors did not come any nearer to her than they did to Miss Granger or Miss Weasley before I cast my patronus. She has suffered a great shock, nothing more. I promise you; she will recover fully."

Sneering, he fought his impulse to rake the wolf over the coals for letting the dementors come anywhere near Rose. Tempting as it was, though, it was no way to bury the hatchet and fulfill one of the key provisions of the prophecy. Turning around, he nodded gravely in acknowledgement before stating sardonically, "As comforting as your assurances are, Remus, you will forgive me for preferring to hear them from a professional Healer."

To anyone else, his reply might have sounded scathing, but to Remus Lupin, it was anything but. Not only had Severus Snape called him by his Christian name, but he had not once attempted to blame Rose Potter's collapse on his inability to adequately protect a student. It was, considering their history, quite a remarkable concession.

"Of course, Severus. I apologize for answering for Madame Pomfrey. I fear Rose's collapse has shaken me more than I realized. To see her lying there so still, it was as if Lily—"

"Quite."

He stared significantly at the two young women who were sitting on the bed beside Rose, raptly soaking in every word that was being said. It took a moment, but Lupin finally got the message, rising tiredly to his feet to escort the two girls to their Head of House for a late dinner.

"Come along, Miss Granger, Miss Weasley. I daresay that Miss Potter will not be leaving the infirmary tonight. I'm sure you will be able to visit her tomorrow once she has sufficiently rested."

Hermione answered for both of them. "Yes, Professor." Biting her lip, she stared at Professor Snape before blurting out, "I was sorry to hear of your accident, Professor Snape." Flushing at her boldness, she quickly added, "Ron told me when we met in Diagon Alley to pick up our supplies."

"I suggest you leave, Miss Granger. Now."

His tone was severe enough to practically send the young Gryffindor to tears. Hermione quickly rushed to Ginny's side, following Lupin out of the infirmary. Sighing, Severus bitterly wondered how many more of his students would be brave or foolish enough to commiserate with him to his face. Before his thoughts could lapse into melancholy, Poppy Pomfrey touched him on the arm.

"Really, Severus, you shouldn't scare the child so. She was only trying to be nice."

Ignoring the gentle admonishment, he looked down at Rose. "She will make a full recovery?"

The mediwitch was all business when she replied. "She will, poor dear. I can't imagine what memories the dementors must have preyed upon, but she seems particularly susceptible to their negative influence. We shall have to be vigilant to ensure that Miss Potter does not have a close encounter with them again. Though with the creatures actually posted to Hogwarts, I'm not sure how to accomplish this."

"You don't think they could have brought back her memories of this summer?"

Madame Pomfrey looked at him in befuddlement. "Do you mean her accident, Severus? Miss Weasley explained that she had been in one of those muggle automotors and suffered an injury, but I don't think that memory would be traumatic enough to trigger such a reaction."

For a moment, he forgot to breathe. And, then, with a silent apology, he caught Poppy's gaze and employed Legilimency to search her memories. It was as he feared; she had no recollection of Rose's attack nor did she remember that she had been the one to heal the child from such grave injuries.

Carefully, he pulled out of her mind, at once angry and deeply regretful. If not for the woman in front of him, he and Rose would be dead. She had a right to know what she had done—for both of them. And yet, Albus had once again taken it upon himself to sacrifice for the greater good.

Sinking into the chair next to the girl's bedside, his mind whirred. Just how far was the Headmaster willing to go to ensure secrecy? Was he next? Was Minerva? Steps must be taken with due haste to guarantee that if his memories were stolen, they would not be gone permanently.

Wishing that he could stay with Rose until she woke, he nevertheless stood abruptly, his demeanor as cold and uncaring as ice. "I should inform Miss Potter's Head of House that she has once again managed to turn a simple journey to school into a drama worthy of the Daily Prophet. Please excuse my intrusion, Madame Pomfrey."

More than a little confused, Poppy watched the Potions Master leave the infirmary as abruptly as he had entered. With a shrug, she turned her attention to the two little First Years who had come in with stomachaches after partaking too eagerly at the start-of-term feast. She had learned very early that the motivations of one Severus Snape were as unfathomable as the man himself.


	7. Draco's Mistake

Author's Notes - Thanks to SpencerReid for reviewing the last chapter. I really appreciate it. Just a reminder that this is AU, but I hope you enjoy Draco's discomfort. I certainly did. I know it's short, but I plan on updating tomorrow. Let me know what you think!

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><p>Severus Snape watched his third year class attempt to brew a Shrinking Solution, wishing that Neville Longbottom could manage to brew a successful potion for once. The boy had already put an extra rat spleen into his mixture, however, and it was slowly turning a ridiculous shade of orange. Since rat spleens weren't volatile, he temporarily ignored the mistake to focus his attention on Rose.<p>

He had to admit that she and Hermione Granger made a good team. Rose had a flair for brewing, and the Granger girl was so meticulous in her preparation of ingredients that they rarely failed to brew a new potion successfully. If only he could prevent Mr. Weasley from routinely grabbing one of them as his lab partner, then the two girls might be able to accomplish something quite spectacular during their tenure at Hogwarts.

Thankfully, Ronald Weasley had chosen to pair with Seamus Finnegan this morning, and the girls were conscientiously working on their potion. Though, on second glance, perhaps they were working a little too conscientiously. The two usually chatted quietly back and forth as they brewed, but today, they were uncharacteristically silent. No, he decided after closer scrutiny, Rose was the silent one. Miss Granger kept shooting her worried glances and opening her mouth to speak, but Miss Potter refused to catch her eye, and the studious witch reluctantly kept her mouth closed.

Letting his eyes slide across the room, he considered Rose's demeanor. She had not confided to Madame Pomfrey the nature of the memories she had relived under the influence of the dementors. Had she remembered something from that fateful night? Or, had she recalled a disturbing incident of her uncle's abuse?

A sudden, radical thought struck him. He could simply ask. As her temporary guardian, it would be well within his right to inquire after her health. He was just about to request that she see him after class when the door to the classroom burst open, and Draco Malfoy limped in, his arm bound up as tightly as a mummy's.

His first reaction was to laugh at the absurdity. As Malfoy theatrically dragged his left leg behind him, however, he quickly grew incensed. Was the brat intentionally mimicking his own limp, or was he simply that stupid?

As every eye was upon a smirking Draco, Snape acidly did his best to humiliate him. And, his best was very good, indeed.

"Mr. Malfoy, I was unaware that a minor injury to the arm would result in such a pronounced limp, or, is this merely a pathetic attempt to mock me in front of your peers?"

The pale boy's face went a deathly white as he gasped like a fish stranded on a dry creek bed. He had obviously not intended to be insulting, and did his best to grovel his way out of trouble.

"Not at all, Professor Snape! The hippogriff was especially vicious when attacking me, and I sprained my ankle as I tried to get away. I would never try to belittle your condition."

All of the Gryffindors and not a few Slytherins sniggered at his pathetic excuse. The Potions Master ignored the commotion as he continued to skewer Draco in a dry, mocking voice.

"I see. And, where, pray tell me, was Madame Pomfrey when you reported to the Hospital Wing? I know for a fact that sprained ankles are a specialty of hers."

The boy's telltale arrogance rose to the surface as he attempted to lie his way out of trouble. "You don't think my father would allow me to be treated for such a severe injury at Hogwarts, do you, Professor?"

Snape glowered as he concealed a smile of triumph. Draco still had much to learn about being a Slytherin. His lies were much too complex, for one thing.

"My apologies. Of course your father would do no such thing. Perhaps I should owl your mother to request the name of your Healer. It seems he or she was woefully negligent in not tending to your ankle."

"Owl my mother?"

Again, there were more than a few snickers heard from around the classroom. He was not the only one who was enjoying Draco's rather public lesson.

"I did not stutter, Mr. Malfoy. Certainly, for a trained Healer to have overlooked such an obvious injury is a sign of gross ineptitude."

His cheeks now flushed with embarrassment, Draco mumbled, "I might have exaggerated a bit, Professor. Owling my mother won't be necessary."

This time, Severus' lips did curve into a small smile. "A wise choice, Mr. Malfoy." Vanishing the child's ridiculous bandages, he announced, "Twenty points from Slytherin for disrupting class, and a detention with me tonight for over the top theatrics. If you would be so good as to join Mr. Longbottom at his cauldron, the two of you may attempt to brew a new Shrinking Solution. If you do it correctly, you should have enough time to finish it."

The entire class stared at him like he was a changeling who had just revealed himself. Clearly, they were not used to him disciplining his Slytherins, but it was high time he took some of them to task before they ended up no better than their parents. In this, he was almost grateful for his injuries; they gave him the excuse to be the teacher he had always yearned to be.

"Blimey, who are you and what have you done with Professor Snape?"

Most of the students giggled, with the exception of Draco, who was silently fuming, and Rose, who was staring off into space, oblivious to the exchange. The Potions Master contemptuously bored his eyes into Ronald Weasley, who wisely ducked his head.

"Five points from Gryffindor for outright rudeness, Mr. Weasley. And, if you persist, rest assured that there are always cauldrons that need to be cleaned."

The class quieted quickly after that. Usually, he would be walking around, offering advice and generally intimidating the students, but his leg had been particularly weak that morning. So, he continued to observe from his desk.

Rose did not snap out of her inattentiveness until Miss Granger gave her a gentle tap on the arm. For a moment, she didn't appear to be aware of her surroundings, but she recovered quickly and even managed to be somewhat sociable while they continued to brew.

Surprisingly, Longbottom and Malfoy were working well together, or as well as could be expected. Malfoy was chopping his daisy roots with enough force to pummel them into a wet, sodden mass, but he wasn't actively attempting to sabotage the potion. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Finnegan were so busy discussing Quidditch that their potion curdled, forcing them to start over. The remaining attempts at a Shrinking Solution were of various qualities and stages of development, but none were complete failures, barring Crabbe and Goyle's, which was emitting an aroma reminiscent of rotten skunk.

Lulled into a false sense of security, he failed to see exactly how Miss Potter and Miss Granger managed to ruin their potion so spectacularly, but the results were unmistakable. With a loud bang, their cauldron exploded, sending the vast majority of its contents onto Rose's robes, which began to disintegrate at an alarming rate. Grabbing his cane, he strode to their cauldron as fast as he could.

"_Evanesco," _he incanted, vanishing the mess left in the cauldron. Immediately turning towards Rose, he scourgified her robes. A few patches on her arm were turning red and scaly, as if she had been doused in acid.

Brusquely, he barked out orders, his voice rising in volume the longer he spoke. "The Hospital Wing—now, Miss Potter. Mr. Weasley, you will accompany her. Miss Granger, clean up this mess! And, the rest of you, get back to work!"

But, Rose didn't move. Her eyes glazed as she began to hyperventilate. Severus cursed to himself. The explosion had affected her enough to trigger a panic attack, even if she couldn't remember the triggering event.

"Miss Granger, fetch Madame Pomfrey," he commanded in a too calm voice. "The rest of you, bottle your potions and leave immediately."

He had to give his class credit for obeying him instantly. Even Crab and Goyle were out the door within a minute. Surprisingly, it was Draco who lingered, but a withering glance was all it took to make him scurry out of sight.

Gingerly, he touched Rose's shoulder. She violently wrenched herself away, but the movement thankfully brought her to her senses. Ignoring her questioning look, he silently handed her a paper bag he had summoned, which she placed over her face to combat her near hyperventilation. By the time she was again breathing normally, the school matron had rushed to her side, followed closely on her heels by Miss Granger.

"I don't understand," Rose hesitantly complained, clearly confused. "Why do my arms burn? Where is everyone?"

"Your cauldron exploded," he answered smoothly. "Some of the ingredients that touched your skin are potent enough to momentarily daze you. You will be fine. Madame Pomfrey is going to heal your burns and then let you rest for the day. I'd like to see you before classes tomorrow so we can discuss what happened."

Poppy gave him a sharp look. She knew they had been brewing Shrinking Solutions, and none of the ingredients were of a sort to send one into a stupor. However, she kept her questions to herself.

"An afternoon in bed wouldn't go amiss, Miss Potter. Perhaps you haven't recovered sufficiently from your encounter with the dementors. If you are feeling better this evening, I will release you to supper. However, first things first. Let's take care of your burns."

Rose allowed herself to be led away, still not quite coherent.

"A moment, Miss Granger," he requested when Hermione would have followed.

The bushy-haired girl unconsciously bit her lip. "Yes, Professor?"

"I would like you to explain exactly what happened."

When she answered, her nervousness was all too apparent. "I believe, sir, that Rose added three counter-clockwise stirs after I had added the skinned shrivelfig."

Impatiently, he dismissed her reply. "Miss Granger, perhaps you misunderstand. I am well aware of the manner in which the potion came to be volatile. Counter-clockwise stirring is the only action that could cause the brew to explode. I wish to know what occurred in my class to distract Miss Potter to such a dangerous degree."

"Oh."

The girl was definitely flustered. It was evident in the way she unthinkingly rubbed her hands together. He had almost lost his patience before she finally began to speak in fits and starts. With the utmost difficulty, he allowed her to tell her tale uninterrupted.

"Rose . . . well, Rose has been easily distracted since the beginning of term. She seems . . . that is to say . . . she seems troubled, and Draco didn't help things today, saying what he did to her."

The silence stretched until his patience snapped.

"And, what, precisely, did Mr. Malfoy say?" Merlin's Beard, but was he going to have to drag the story out of her point by point?

The hand wringing became more pronounced. "He asked Rose why she wasn't hunting Black herself. When she didn't understand, he thought it was funny! He laughed, Professor! And then, he told her that Black wanted to kill her . . . and how he had betrayed her parents."

Finished, Miss Granger, worriedly bit her bottom lip, exposing two overly large front teeth. If her revelations hadn't been so distressing, he might have offered to use the shrinking solution to lessen her overbite, but his thoughts were focused entirely on Rose.

"Five points to Gryffindor for your cooperation, Miss Granger. You are dismissed."

Grabbing her book bag, she hastened towards the door, only to stop anxiously on the threshold. "Is it true, Professor? Is Sirius Black really after Rose?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he said gravely, "I'm very much afraid he is."

Draco's tale confirmed, she nodded grimly before walking out the door. He had to admire her lack of histrionics.

Alone in his classroom, he quietly cursed, blaming himself for not warning Rose of Black's intent. He should have done so before leaving her in the Weasleys' care. Now, he would be forced to explain a great number of things better left in the past lest someone else exploit her ignorance.


	8. The Hospital Wing

Author's Notes - Thanks to SpencerReid for reviewing. I hope this story is finding an audience, but there's been little feedback to indicate whether readers love it, hate it, or are truly indifferent. This chapter isn't quite as exciting as the previous one, since it is a entirely a conversation between Rose and Snape. Rest assured, that there will be action in the next one. Hope you enjoy it.

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><p>Rose was alone in the Hospital Wing for which Severus was truly thankful. She hadn't noticed him yet, and he took a moment to study her. Propped up by a ridiculous number of pillows, she once again stared off into nothingness, completely preoccupied with her thoughts. For a moment, he debated using Legillimacy on her, but he quickly dismissed that notion. Anything other than a cursory reading of her mood would not go unnoticed, and her mood was plainly written on her face.<p>

"Miss Potter."

Startling, she looked at him guiltily as her cheeks turned red with embarrassment. "Professor! You scared me. I'm really sorry about class today. I don't know what happened."

"But I do," he answered firmly, summoning a chair to her bedside. "You gave the Shrinking Solution three counter-clockwise stirs after Miss Granger had added the skinned shrivelfig."

"But, that would be . . . ."

No doubt the girl had been about to say that such an action would have been idiotic and she had done no such thing. However, the heated protest died on her lips as she considered the exploding cauldron. There was little emotion left in her voice when she continued.

"I guess that would be the only possible answer. I just don't remember doing it."

Once again, her eyes lost their focus, and he was forced to speak sharply with her to gain her attention.

Miss Potter! There are only two possible explanations for such an act, rampant stupidity or gross inattention. Since I know for a fact that you are far from stupid, I would like you to tell me what led you to such a distraction."

"I don't know," she complained, her voice petulant.

He countered her tone with his most biting sarcasm. "You're lying, something for which you have little talent. Now, stop this woolgathering and tell me what happened in my class today to turn one of my more competent students into a doppelganger of Neville Longbottom."

It was, evidently, the wrong thing to say. Rose exploded.

"Why do you care?" she screeched. You hate me!"

Instantly, tears welled in her eyes. "That's not true," she countered guiltily, seemingly arguing with herself. "I know that's not true. Why aren't you being mean to me? Am I sick? That's it, isn't it? I'm dying or going crazy, but no one will tell me. Why won't anyone tell me?"

With that, she began to sob. Awkwardly, he patted her back, berating himself for not handling the situation better. Upset and confused, she deserved his understanding, not his temper. He took a deep, steadying breath before speaking to her again. This time, his tone was gentle.

"I give you my word that you are not dying, Rose. Nor are you going crazy. Something is bothering you, however, and I would like to know what it is."

"I'm fine. Nothing's bothering me." Stubbornly, she jutted out her chin doing her best to be intimidating. It was a pathetic attempt, but he rejoiced to see even a shadow of her former spirit.

"Were you distracted by Mr. Malofy's taunts?"

"You know about that?"

This time, a ghost of a smile briefly illuminated his face. "Obviously."

"You'd think I'd be used to people trying to kill me by now," she ruefully muttered, refusing to meet his eyes.

"It is not something that one should be expected to grow used to, Miss Potter."

"Oh. I guess I supposed it was. I mean I've had lots of people try to kill me. I think . . . I think that's what I remember when the dementors came onto the train. I heard a woman screaming and saw a bright, green light. I used to dream about that light when I was younger." Tremulously, she confessed. "I think I might have heard Voldemort killing my mum."

He sucked in a lungful of air. "You heard Lily?"

"You knew my mum?"

"She and I were childhood friends, Miss Potter. We grew up together on Spinner's End. That is why your Aunt Petunia was willing to speak to me."

In spite of herself, Rose smiled. "She didn't seem to like you very much, though."

This time, Severus' own smile was more pronounced. "Rest assured the feeling is mutual, Miss Potter."

Briefly, he toyed with the idea of asking her about her home life, but knew it was not yet the time for such an intimate conversation. They still had Black to discuss.

"I am sorry, however, that you are tormented by your mother's death when you see the dementors. Lily would never have wished to be your worst memory."

Her face immediately clouded over and the smile disappeared. She actually seemed to shrink into the bed. "Do you think it's wrong of me to . . . well, I don't exactly **want** to relieve those memories, but I don't have any of Mum at all. And, even though it's horrible, it's still, you know, her."

He considered his answer very carefully. The silence stretched to the point that Rose began to bite the inside of her cheek.

"I understand your desire to know your mother, Rose. And, I cannot tell you how much I regret the fact that you have been denied that opportunity. While what you see under the influence of the dementors is a true memory and not some nightmare, you must guard against your temptation to relive these particular memories in any detail. Dementors feed off our pain and sorrow. The longer these memories last, the weaker you will become, until the vile creatures have affected you to the point where they can steal your very soul. That is not a fate your mother would wish upon you. Perhaps it would be better to speak to someone who could reminisce about happier times in your mother's life rather than dwell on her final minutes."

"Like you, sir?"

Ah, well, he had walked straight into that trap, hadn't he? "I would be willing. However, my friendship with your mother did not last beyond our fifth year at Hogwarts. Others, like Professor McGonagall and Professor Lupin would be better suited to speak of your mother's pride and love of you."

"Professor Lupin knew my mum?"

The girl seemed to be genuinely stunned. Clearly, she had not thought to ask anyone at Hogwarts about her parents before. It made what he had to say all the harder.

"Professor Lupin and I were in the same year as Lily and your father." He privately congratulated himself on the blandness he had managed to achieve with that statement. "I'm sure he would be willing to share some stories with you." The thought of the "stories" Lupin might be inclined to share left a bitter taste in his mouth. However, he shoved that aside to warn her of the Marauder who wished her dead.

His expression became grave. "Unfortunately, Sirius Black was in our year as well. I understand Mr. Malfoy informed you of the fact that the crazed wizard broke out of Azkaban specifically to kill you. He told you that Black wished to take revenge for your defeat of the Dark Lord, did he not?"

She gave a small nod to indicate Malfoy had done precisely that.

"He is mistaken. Yes, Black will try his best to kill you, but his motives are far more complex."

At his blunt statement, her eyes widen in fear. "So, he's not going to just give up, is he, Professor?"

"No, Miss Potter, he is not. Sirius Black was your father's best friend, so much so that he was named your godfather."

"Wait! He's my godfather? Is Aunt Petunia my godmother, then? Is that why she was burdened with me?"

His left hand began to tremble, and he was very glad at that moment to be sitting down. He vowed to have a talk about her childhood very soon. No child, especially Lily's child, should ever think of herself as a burden.

"Your godmother was tortured into insanity by followers of the Dark Lord known as Death Eaters the day after your parents died. Since neither one of your godparents was in a position to raise you, the Headmaster thought it best to give you to your nearest living relatives. Your father had been an only child, and his parents were deceased. Now may I continue my explanation?"

His answer seemed to satisfy her, for which he was grateful. He would always carry the guilt of the Longbottoms' torture with him, and he had no desire to speak of Alice Longbottom any more than necessary. She had been a beautiful woman in her time, and was now reduced to a doddering simpleton residing in the permanent spell injury ward at St. Mungo's.

A more recent, painful twinge of guilt shot through him when he considered his behavior towards Neville Longbottom, her only son. While he had made no vow concerning the child, he owed Neville something as recompense for losing his parents at such a young age. He thought to offer to tutor the boy in remedial potions as a penance before getting back to the topic at hand.

"As I was saying, Sirius Black was your father's best friend. When the Headmaster learned the Dark Lord had targeted you and your parents, Professor Dumbledore suggested they go into hiding under a complicated spell called the Fidelius Charm. The secret of their whereabouts would remain hidden inside a living soul who alone would have the power to reveal their location. Sirius Black was their Secret Keeper. He personally betrayed your parents to the Dark Lord, and holds you responsible for his imprisonment in Azkaban. He is a demented, deranged and extremely powerful wizard who will do anything to see you dead. To seek your own revenge against such a foe would be foolhardy indeed."

"To seek my revenge," she repeated under her breath, stunned at the Potions Master's assumption. "I'm not going to look for Black, Professor! Even I'm not that arrogant. He'd likely kill me in an instant."

"Good, I'm glad you see it that way," he stated, although she seemed not to hear him. In fact, she was just beginning to vent her frustration.

"I know I'm weak," she bitterly continued to rant. "No one else at Hogwarts is affected by the Dementors like me. Besides, it's not as if I can go outside of the wards to search, is it? I can't even go to Hogsmeade like the rest of the third years because Uncle Vernon refused to sign my permission slip. I'm stuck here, inside the castle and grounds, waiting for the dementors to decide I would make a tasty snack."

He was about to argue that her reaction to the dementors did not show weakness when a hard glint came into her eye. He was shocked at what she said next.

"But, you could. You could go after Black. He betrayed you, too, if you were friends with my mother."

Temptation came in many forms, and the thought of killing Sirius Black with his bare hands gave him a flush of pleasure. Though, he dismissed it as wishful thinking in an instant.

"Miss Potter, I made a vow to your mother to protect you, and that is precisely what I am going to do. That does not include chasing around Britain hoping to drive that madman out in the open. If he is ever stupid enough to come here, I can assure you that I would take great pleasure in killing him. However, you are not, under any circumstances to go looking for Black. I will not allow you to dishonor your mother's sacrifice by throwing your life away. Do I make myself clear?"

She answered sullenly. "I'm not looking to get killed, Professor. It's just, Black's the reason I'm an orphan, just as much as Voldemort. If anyone deserves to die, it's him."

By her logic, he deserved death just as much as Sirius Black. After all, he had given the Dark Lord the prophecy, unknowingly putting Lily and her family in mortal peril. He didn't know what Rose would think if she ever discovered his role in her parents deaths. Nor did he care to find out.

"Then let some other fool attempt to rid the world of Sirius Black. Your mother would not have wished you to become a murderer, even for her sake."

His comment chastised the child as much as any physical blow, and the color drained from her face. "You're right," she croaked out, her voice thick with emotion. "I just feel so angry inside. I yelled at Ron yesterday because he started talking about Hogsmeade. It seems so unimportant after everything that happened this summer."

His eyes bored into hers. "After your accident, you mean?"

"Yes! No . . . I don't know. I don't remember the accident at all, Professor. If Aunt Petunia hadn't been the one to tell me about it, I would have thought someone was playing a joke. I mean, I felt fine. It was Dudley who was acting all weird. He kept following me around asking if I needed anything, which frankly scared me. Uncle Vernon didn't even threaten me with the belt! But, I wasn't allowed to go outside, not once. Usually, I'm the one to weed the garden and tend to the lawn, but no one mentioned chores at all. I couldn't even go to the playground, not that I wanted to. I don't know why, but I keep having nightmares about the playground near the house. Do you think I got hit on the head?"

"Perhaps. Or perhaps your relatives finally decided to stop mistreating you."

She did everything but roll her eyes to show her contempt at such a statement and he privately had to agree. It had been worth a try, though.

"Yeah, like that's ever going to happen. I can't believe Aunt Petunia let me go with you. Mr. Weasley told me to keep that to myself, though. He said that a handwritten note may not be legal and didn't want me to jinx it."

Suddenly, anxious, she begged, "You aren't going to make me go back, are you, Professor?"

He thought about the blood wards and how even Petunia had acknowledged their importance. "I assure you, Miss Potter, if you do go back to Privet Drive this summer, it will only be for a few weeks and at no time will you be alone. The Headmaster confided that your aunt's house has some special protections built into it specifically to keep you safe. It might be necessary for you to reside there for two weeks, but we can discuss that at a later date. It is not my intention to allow you to go back to living with your Muggle relatives."

She exuberantly threw her arms around him, and he was very glad that Madame Pomfrey was elsewhere. It would be imprudent for him to be seen hugging a female student, especially this particular female student. Still, he couldn't resist briefly hugging back. She deserved at least one adult who truly cared about her welfare.

"I will sp-speak to Madame P-Pomrfrey about releasing you for s-s-supper."

Her exuberance immediately dimmed, but the smile remained on her face. "Thanks, Professor Snape. I know how much of a problem I must be for you. You've really been decent. I'm sorry I thought all those crazy things about you my first two years here."

He didn't need to know what she had thought. Outside of Potions class, he'd done everything he could to earn her contempt, and had not bothered to explain any of his actions. He was too fatigued to apologize at that moment, however.

"N-not a p-p-problem, M-M-Miss P-Potter. W-We—" With an irritated flick of his wand, he began to write words in the air. They glowed in the brightest silver, hanging like dewdrops until they slowly began to fade. Having her read his sentiments was far quicker than trying to get the words out at the present time.

_No child is a burden, Miss Potter, especially you. I hope you understand that I take my vow to your mother most seriously. No matter how gruff I might have appeared, I have always had your best interest at heart. We will speak further when I am better rested. Don't forget your lessons. I'm sure Miss Granger can give you your assignments._

She giggled at that, and it heartened him immensely. Relying heavily on his cane to walk, he limped slowly out of the Hospital Wing, his face the unguarded picture of satisfaction. Rose Potter might be somewhat bent, but she was far from broken. And, he would do anything to see to it that she remained whole.


	9. The Grim

Author's Notes - Sorry for the delay in updating. I hope the longer chapter will make up for it. Thanks to FleurSuoh and SpencerReid for reviewing the last chapter. Comments are always appreciated, and I am usually prompt about replying when there is no water pouring into my ceiling from a leak in the roof!

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><p>Walking into Remus Lupin's office, Snape sneered at the vast array of magical junk strewn about. There were broken sneakoscopes and a piece of a foe glass, phony protection amulets and cracked wands. In a cage near his desk, a Red Cap paced back and forth, and the trunk on the floor rattled violently, the unexpected motion betraying the boggart no doubt inside.<p>

"Lupin, a word."

Remus Lupin regarded his fellow teacher with no little surprise and a pang of embarrassment.

"I promise you, Severus, that I had no idea you were Mr. Longbottom's greatest fear. If I had, I would not have chosen him to go first against the boggart. I assure you that there was no intent to humiliate you whatsoever."

Snape had a sick feeling that whatever the wolf was rambling about, it was definitely humiliating. However, he had more pressing business to attend to.

"Much as your garbled apology intrigues me, the form of Mr. Longbottom's boggart is not why I am here. I find myself in need of a . . . favor."

While he had made the word favor sound like a rotten pumpkin dunked in effluent, Remus smiled nonetheless. "Anything that's within my power, Severus. I am truly grateful that you offered to brew the Wolfsbane Potion. I know it's complicated and time consuming."

He wrestled with conflicting desires. On the one hand, he wished to do nothing more than curtly inform the wolf that he had done no such thing. Dumbledore had assumed he would brew the potion, and hadn't given him the option of refusing. On the other hand, he could use that misplaced gratitude to his own advantage.

"Quite." Raising an eyebrow, he deliberately smirked. "Do you not wish to know what I would have you do first?"

The thin wizard wearing the tatty, patched robes grew solemn. "I trust you, Severus, and we both know that I owe you a debt for far more than the Wolfsbane Potion."

Snape's mouth opened in shock before he had the presence of mind to close it. Of all the things Lupin could have said, he had not expected that. Anger surged through him at the reminder of how close he had come to dying at the hands of the Marauders, but he made a conscious effort to ignore it. Still, his reply was stiffer than he had intended.

"You do. However, you should have no qualms about fulfilling this particular request. In fact, I would caution you against performing it too enthusiastically. Miss Potter is, first and foremost, a student, and considering the threat to her at present, I expect you to refrain yourself from glorifying certain aspects of the past."

"This is about Rose?"

He frowned at the overly familiar use of her first name. "It is. It has come to my attention that few have shared stories of her parents with her. I had hoped you would be willing to do so."

"You wish me to tell Rose about James?"

He winced at the incredulity in Lupin's voice. "I believe I said parents, which, of necessity, includes Potter. However, I expect that you will be able to give her what she most desires, memories of her mother when Miss Potter was as an infant."

The embarrassed expression returned to Lupin's face, and Snape had an odd, blinding flash of insight. Finding someone to speak of Lily as a mother was going to be more difficult than he had expected. He wasn't surprised to hear the wolf's excuses.

"Unfortunately, I don't have those stories to tell. After graduation, I traveled to China to pursue a cure for lycanthropy that the Red Dragon Faction had supposedly perfected. It took me months to discover that their cure was no more than a stolen copy of the Wolfsbane Potion. I didn't even attend the wedding. James and I owled each other often, but I didn't hear much from Lily."

"Surely there is someone."

"Lily was in the Order, but most of them are dead, Severus. Plus, she and James were forced into hiding as soon as her pregnancy became known. She spent the better part of two years cooped up in the house in Godric's Hollow. I know James would sneak out from time to time, but she refused to put Rose's life in jeopardy to do the same. Molly knew her, but not well; she was busy taking care of her own children. I'm sure she could tell Rose a story or two, though."

Molly couldn't. He had already flooed her to ask, finding the assumptions he had made about Lily and her relationship to have been completely wrong. She had been forced to quit the Order when Bill had been born with a heart defect. It had taken two years of treatments at St. Mungo's before the problem could be resolved.

A flood of all too familiar guilt washed over him. Lily had always been gregarious. To have been shut up in the confines of a small house for almost two years must have been torture. It was a wonder she hadn't gone completely insane. If only he hadn't given the Dark Lord the prophecy. If only he hadn't taken the mark. If only he hadn't called her that wretched name.

"Severus?"

Jolted back to the present, Snape apologized for his inattention and quickly took his leave. His thoughts were too dark at that moment to endure the company of others, especially one who had caused him such pain. He desperately needed to be alone.

Ducking into the kitchens, he left with a sack full of food. The thought of eating in the Great Hall where students and staff alike could gossip about him was too much to cope with at the present. Yet, he couldn't endure the thought of eating alone in his quarters. He needed fresh air and the sun on his face to snap him out of his growing melancholy. Knowing it was too early in the term for students to be out studying on the grounds, he made his way to the lake as swiftly as he could.

Laboriously, he sat down near the tree—the one where he and Lily had spent many happy hours together as students and one horrible, disastrous minute. For a while, he relived that scene over and over again in his head, the sack forgotten beside him. And, then the setting sun kissed his cheek, sending warmth all the way to his toes. Looking at the sky, he smiled half-heartedly.

"No doubt you'd tell me to stop wallowing in guilt, Lily, but I'm afraid that is more difficult in practice than theory."

Still, he began to rummage in the sack, pulling out a crisp, sweet apple. As he ate, his thoughts turned towards the good times he had shared with his friend until he found a measure of contentment. Glad that he had made the arduous trip from the castle to the lake, he pulled out a bottle of pumpkin juice and began to drink.

He saw the dog as it approached, choking on his juice at the sight before him. The Grim had, indeed, come to Hogwarts, and it looked very much like the devil that had tried its best to kill him once before. His cane was out of reach, but he pulled himself up using the trunk of the tree, scraping his fingers in the process.

Although terrified at the prospect of facing an animal that could well want him dead, Severus did not brandish his wand. If he faced a true Grim, there was nothing that could be done to save him from his fate. And, if the creature moving towards him was nothing more than a dog, he needed to learn to face his fears before lashing out with magic. His heart hammering in his chest, he warily watched the creature approach.

By the time it was close enough to touch, he realized that it was nothing more than a half-starved, mangy mutt. No doubt it had been attracted to the smell of the food. Intending to feed it some meat from his sandwich, Severus bent down to retrieve the sack, but his left leg unexpectedly gave out and he fell heavily to the ground.

Lying on his back on the patchy grass, he cursed his infirmity. And, then, he was being licked in the face by the dog.

"Get away," he complained with a theatrical groan. "Your breath smells horrid." The dog yipped at this but backed away, and he laughed at the absurdity as he carefully sat up. "Well at least you've been trained at some time," he announced while casting around for the sack.

"_Accio _sack," he commanded, and the substantial remains of his dinner flew into his hand. He pulled out two sandwiches and gravely offered to share one with the mutt. The black dog accepted his offering and finished it in two gulps. Smirking, he offered him the second sandwich, and watched with amusement as it also disappeared into the beast's mouth.

"That's all there is for you, I'm afraid. The only thing left is a piece of chocolate cake. As chocolate is poisonous to dogs, I shall claim it for myself without a shred of remorse."

He could have sworn the dog looked put out, but the animal gave one last, envious glance at the cake before bounding to the edge of the lake. As it lapped up water, Severus wondered if the mutt had any connection to the prophecy. Upon first glance, it definitely could be mistaken for a Grim. Who knew? Perhaps it was the Grim and had fallen on hard times. Perhaps he was meant to fatten it up before it killed him. That absurd thought brought a sardonic smile to his face. It would be just his luck to show kindness to something that intended to do him harm.

Summoning his cane, Severus was able to rise a little more gracefully this time, although his leg was still unstable. Walking uphill, however, proved to be a tiring, onerous task, which rapidly drained his good mood. Even the dog seemed upset, whining whenever he stumbled or had to pause to catch his breath.

Finally, he neared the castle. If he had been stronger, he would have taken the dog to Hagrid's. Instead he transfigured the sack into a collar and a willowy stick into a leash. The mutt could spend one night in the dungeons before going off with the half-giant. Though chilly, the dungeons would at least be warmer than the damp night air.

Looking over his shoulder to call the dog, Severus saw—nothing. There was no sign of the big, black beast anywhere. A superstitious shiver of fear ran down his spine. Perhaps he had met the Grim after all.

Nonsense, he finally decided. No self-respecting Grim would ever allow itself to sink to such an emaciated state. The dog must have been abandoned or lost in the woods near Hogsmeade and had somehow found its way to Hogwarts. He pocketed the collar and leash on the off chance that he might see the animal again. He knew Hagrid had a soft spot for dogs (all manner of beasts in fact) and would take good care of it.

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><p>Half dragging himself down the dim corridor, he yearned for his new sauna. Sitting in the hot steam would be therapeutic for his mind and body. Yes, some time spent in the sauna and then bed. He would feel better in the morning, and would definitely speak to Poppy about a regimen to strengthen his muscles. There was only so much a potion could do.<p>

Halfway to his quarters, he was forcibly reminded that the sauna would have to wait.

"Professor? Is detention in your office tonight instead of the lab?"

Malfoy. Shit. He had forgotten entirely that he'd assigned detention to the boy. Tempting as it would be to cancel it, he wished to make an impression on his brightest Slytherin.

"Your powers of observation are formidable as always, Mr. Malfoy. Since I am walking towards my office as we speak, you may correctly assume that you will be serving your punishment there this evening."

"But there aren't any cauldrons to clean in your office, sir."

Stupid idiot—was he a Gryffindor or a Slytherin? "Again, your observation is flawless. Or was that a pathetic attempt at cheek?"

He could hear the fear in the blonde's voice, and reveled in it. "No, cheek, Professor. You mentioned cauldrons to Weasley and I just assumed . . . ."

"Never assume, Draco. Had your transgression merely been a simple insult towards me, you would be scrubbing cauldrons. However, considering your actions towards Miss Potter in my class, I find you need an abject lesson in chivalry. Or hasn't your father taught you that it's unsporting to torment a young lady?"

"Torment? You're talking about Rose Bloody Potter, aren't you? She's done nothing but torment me, Professor! Even chivalry has its limits when it comes to her."

Lighting the candles in his office with a quick _Lumos_, Snape had to mask his laughter with a cough and a sneer. Malfoy's reaction was particularly stupid considering his current mood. The spoiled brat would be forced to learn a valuable lesson tonight.

"Sit down, Draco."

Warily, the boy sat in the chair facing the Potions Master's desk. Once Snape heavily dropped onto his own chair, he brusquely asked for specific instances when Rose Potter had tormented him.

"Um," the boy uncertainly began, the righteous indignation momentarily wiped off his face. "I know! She deliberately distracted me during Quidditch last year, Professor, causing me to lose the Snitch and humiliate myself in front of my father."

Snape raised one disbelieving eyebrow. "You are the Slytherin Seeker, are you not, Mr. Malfoy? Isn't it your job to grab the Snitch no matter what form a distraction may take?"

Draco's temper snapped. "She flew so crazily that I couldn't help being distracted! She tricked me!"

Severus' voice turned oily and far too patronizing for the young Slytherin to mistake his meaning. "Are you suggesting, Mr. Malfoy, that Miss Potter charmed the Bludger to attack herself? Or do you believe her broken arm to have been a trick as well?"

Sulkily, he shook his head, all but admitting that he had lost the argument.

"Good. Now, as much as it might pain you to admit it, Rose Potter is a young lady, and you should treat her with some respect. Frankly, I would think a Slytherin would have the brains to treat anyone as powerful as the Girl-Who-Lived with some modicum of respect. Not many students have managed to kill a Basilisk, thwart the Dark Lord, subdue a troll and live to tell the tale.

Draco nodded sullenly, unable to counter his teacher's argument. "Sorry, Professor."

"I am not the one to whom you should apologize, which brings us to your first task. You shall apologize to Miss Potter for your behavior tomorrow morning at breakfast."

The boy looked at him like he had just sprouted horns. "But, breakfast is in the Great Hall! Everyone will see!"

Snape pretended to consider this. "Yes, I believe you're correct, Mr. Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin for that most brilliant deduction."

"But, Professor Snape!"

Severus continued as if he hadn't heard Draco's complaint. "Tonight, however, you will write a letter to your mother, explaining exactly what happened in Potions Class and why you were compelled to commit such an ungentlemanly act."

This was too much for Draco, who immediately stood up, unconsciously trying to intimidate Snape. "But you promised you wouldn't owl my mum!"

This time, his black eyes held an unmistakable sparkle of amusement. "I'm not. You are. Now get writing."

Muttering curses under his breath, Malfoy began to scribble his letter onto the waiting parchment. After twenty minutes of desperately trying to stay awake, Snape gestured for him to hand it over. As tired as he was, he had to stifle his laughter at the ridiculously whiny missive.

_Dear Mum,_

_Professor Snape is making me write this letter to you because he doesn't understand what an annoying witch Rose Potter is. She always picks on me, but no one ever takes my side because of who she is. Today, I was trying to be polite and warn her about Sirius Black, and the professor is blaming me for her cauldron blowing up and her being sent to the Hospital Wing. It's not my fault she got upset when I told her Sirius Black was trying to kill her. I can't believe I'm getting in trouble for trying to do something nice. _

_The professor actually gave me a lecture about chivalry. I don't think Rose counts as a girl, though. She has no respect for who I am, and treats me worse than Pansy Parkinson. You know how much I can't stand Pansy. Rose Potter has the entire school wrapped around her finger, and all the teachers favor her. _

_I hope you and Father are doing well. I apologize for having to send this letter. Professor Snape has finally succumbed to Potter hysteria just like the rest of the staff. He's as smitten with her now as that oaf, Hagrid. He's gone so far as to make me apologize to her in front of everyone tomorrow at breakfast. Please tell father of the insult to our family._

_Love always,_

_Draco_

Rolling up the parchment, Severus could not wait to send it. He wasn't quite sure how Narcissa would receive it, but she would berate her son for the whinging tone of the letter if not for his deed. Besides, he had a genuine interest in helping the boy. Narcissa Black, although several years older than he, had been one of the few people to show him kindness in school. She didn't deserve a spoiled, arrogant child like Draco.

Conserving his remaining strength, he spoke tersely. "Good night, Mr. Malfoy."

"That's it?"

"For now," he answered with enough emphasis on the now to remind Draco of the requirement that he apologize to Rose.

Hardly daring to believe that his detention had lasted only half an hour, Draco practically ran out of Snape's office, lest the Potions Master change his mind and make him clean cauldrons after all. Severus, however, had no desire to postpone the trip to his quarters any longer. As soon as the sound of Draco's boots had disappeared, he struggled to stand, and, leaning against the wall of the hallway, managed to make it to his rooms.

Albus must have charmed the door to alert him to his entrance because no sooner had he stepped inside, his floo lit with green flames. Cursing under his breath, Snape hobbled his way to the fireplace.

"Yes?"

"Ah, Severus. I was growing concerned about you, my boy. Do you mind if I pop in?"

Of course he minded. He wanted some hot water and steam on his body and then a good night's rest.

"Not, at all, Headmaster."

That evening, Dumbledore's robes had been charmed to flash every color of the rainbow in sparkling neon. The effect was similar to a disco ball being turned on in a too small room. Snape had to immediately look away when the garish ensemble brought black spots to his eyes.

Noticing Severus' reaction, he took out his wand and easily changed his robe back into pastel violet, explaining as he went. "A project of the seventh year Charms students. I believe Filius was thankful for my willingness to be the test subject."

Snape's lips twitched. "No doubt." Then, tired of standing, he offered Dumbledore a seat before relaxing on his couch. In contrast to his rooms at home, his quarters at Hogwarts were filled with tasteful antiques. Everything was neat and tidy, although the decorative touches were a bit sparse. Here, rather than Spinner's End was the Potions Master's true home, as was evident by his easy manner with his unwelcome guest.

"Why are you here, Albus?" he asked, too weary to be anything but blunt.

For once, Dumbledore didn't make light of his question before answering. "I was worried about you, Severus. After I heard about Neville Longbottom's boggart and did not see you in the Great Hall for dinner, I worried that you were too upset to eat. I tried to send a plate to your rooms, but you were out."

Sidetracked for a moment, he satisfied his curiosity first. "Lupin has already apologized for the incident, although I would like to know why you would assume I would be so upset. What, exactly, did Mr. Longbottom's boggart look like?"

Dumbledore blinked and then leaned back in his comfortable armchair. "Ah. I had hoped not to be the one to tell you, Severus, although neither Mr. Longbottom nor Remus are to blame. The child's boggart was you, and to combat it, Professor Lupin suggested the boy visualize his boggart in his grandmother's clothes."

He covered his hands with his face, completely mortified. When he had calmed down enough to look up, the Headmaster was staring at him with too much compassion in his eyes. It made him distinctly uneasy.

"You mean to tell me that the third years saw an image of me dressed in Augusta Longbottom's atrocious hat and moth-eaten dresses?"

He knew he had said the wrong thing when the Headmaster smiled at the mention of him in a dress. "Only the Gryffindors, Severus."

"Of course it would be the Gryffindors. I may never eat in the Great Hall again."

"Have you eaten tonight, Severus?"

His left hand began to shake. What was he, a bloody child? Calming, he realized it was the perfect opportunity to bring up his encounter with the stray dog.

"Actually, I fed my sandwiches to the Grim."

When Dumbledore realized that he had not been joking, he immediately called for Dobby to bring a tray. "Perhaps you should eat as we discuss this, my boy. I have a feeling that your tale is a lengthy one."

He did appreciate the food. The apple had been small and the cake had not been filling. Snacking on some cheese and bread, he described his encounter with the half-starved stray from beginning to end. When he had finished speaking, Albus grew thoughtful.

"You say this animal resembles the one that attacked you in Surrey?"

"Only superficially, Headmaster. They are both large and black. To be candid, I could not tell you what breed of dog attacked me. It was dark and I was too focused on keeping its teeth away from my throat."

The older wizard lapsed into a thoughtful silence, which Snape broke when it had dragged too long.

"Do you think it is connected to the prophecy, Albus?"

"What?" he asked, clearly distracted. "The prophecy? Of course it pertains to the prophecy, my boy. The question is, how? I must consider this further. If you do manage to restrain it, inform me as soon as you take it to Hagrid's."

Standing up, his eyes twinkled once more. "Only you, Severus, could meet a Grim and feed him supper. Though, I'm confident that I'll see you alive and well in the Great Hall tomorrow morning at breakfast."

He ignored the implied command. "Goodnight, Albus."

"Goodnight, my boy. You look tired; you should get some rest."

He bit his tongue so he wouldn't feel obligated to mention that had intended to do just that before being interrupted by the Headmaster's visit. After Dumbledore had taken his leave, he dispiritedly lay down on the couch, his mind a jumbled mess.

How could he face his students when the tale of Neville's boggart had no doubt spread like wildfire throughout the school? He hated being the butt of jokes. It was too akin to the bullying he had encountered as a child at home and school.

For Lily's daughter, however, he would do it. Draco would be making his insincere apology to the girl in the morning, and he wanted to witness her reaction. It would tell him much about her state of mind.

But, Augusta Longbottom! Merlin's beard, why did it have to be her? The woman wore a dead vulture atop her head! That decided him more than his encounter with the mysterious Grim. The universe was out to get him.


	10. Facing Fears

Author's notes - Thanks to SpencerReid for the review, and for everyone who's put this story on alert. I try to update at least twice a week, but I can't predict which days of the week that might be, so I apologize for anyone who's had trouble finding it. In this chapter, Draco Malfoy does the unthinkable and apologizes, and Rose shocks Severus with her request. Hope you enjoy! Reviews are always welcome.

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><p>"Severus! You're up early."<p>

He warmly greeted his colleague. "And, good morning to you, Minerva. I trust you slept well?"

"Better than you, I imagine," she responded bluntly. "What was Remus thinking when he suggested that Mr. Longbottom imagine his boggart in his grandmother's clothes?"

"I imagine he thought it would look ridiculous. That is, after all, the only way to defeat a boggart."

He had tried to answer lightly, but she heard the underlying hurt in his voice.

"No one meant to embarrass you, Severus."

"And yet, it occurred nonetheless."

She patted his hand, and for once he didn't feel awkward when someone touched him. McGonagall was old enough to be his mother, older, in fact, and occasionally she forgot that he was the Potions Master and treated him like one of her first year students. On an even rarer occasion like this one, he appreciated it.

Helping himself to a generous serving of scrambled eggs, Severus added bacon, sausages and toast to his plate before asking Minerva to pass the orange juice. It was still quite early, and he ate without being interrupted. While he was enjoying a strong cup of black coffee, Filius sat down on his left and immediately poured himself a large bowl of cornflakes.

"Good morning, Severus!" he stated cheerfully in between bites. "We missed you at dinner yesterday. Were you working on a temperamental potion?"

"Nothing so important," he replied easily. "I fancied a walk to the lake."

The congenial wizard blinked, not quite knowing what to make of Snape's out of character behavior. "Yes, of course. The lake is very nice at that time of the evening. Well, it's definitely good to see you out and about so early this morning. Half the students haven't made it into the Hall yet."

He scanned the House tables. Filius was right, only half the students had managed to drag themselves out of bed to breakfast, but there was another forty-five minutes before the first class began. There was still plenty of time for Draco to apologize to Miss Potter.

The Slytherin was conspicuous by his presence. Usually Mr. Malfoy didn't waltz into the Great Hall until fifteen minutes before the start of classes. Today, he was sitting sullenly by himself, a plate of half-eaten rolls in front of him. He obviously had hoped to get his apology out of the way before there were too many witnesses.

Minerva began to rise from her seat, but Snape's advice soon stopped her. "You might want to stay. Mr. Malfoy is going to apologize to Miss Potter for his behavior yesterday in Potions."

The Transfigurations Professor stiffened. "Do you think that's wise, Severus? Mr. Malfoy will likely upset her further."

Only after taking out his wand and whispering _Muffliato_ did he answer. "She must face her fears, Minerva. Where better than in the safety of the Great Hall?"

"Besides," he added in an exaggerated sniff. "Draco is overdue for a lesson in courtesy."

Twenty minutes later, Rose Potter, along with Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom entered the Great Hall. Draco sprinted from his seat to intercept them before they could reach the Gryffindor table.

Severus was too far away to make out what was said, but the words were unimportant. As soon as the group spotted Mr. Malfoy, Ronald Weasley became belligerent, gesticulating wildly and verbally attacking him before the Slytherin could open his mouth.

His upset had a rather unfortunate effect on Rose. Hunching over as if to better protect her body, she nervously backed away. She might have backed up all the way to the Gryffindor common room if Hermione had not been in the way. The bushy-haired girl put an arm around her, but it had little effect on the frightened child's demeanor.

Of the three boys, it was Draco who noticed her upset first. Ignoring Ron completely, he barked at Rose, no doubt demanding what was wrong with her. If anything, this made the Gryffindor more anxious, and she began to wildly scan the hall, as if looking for someone. When her eyes met his, Snape was shocked to see her visibly relax, although she stilled showed signs of her discomfort.

He was rapidly regretting his decision to have Draco apologize. The entire Hall was silent, and every eye was upon the loud, discordant group. The blonde's question had ignited Weasley's fury all over again, and the overly protective boy had begun to harangue the Slytherin once more.

Draco silenced him with a well-placed hex. When Neville would have retaliated against him, however, Hermione put her hand out to stop him. Silence settled over the spectators, and if he strained to hear, he could just make out the words being said.

"If you're not trying to cause trouble, why are you bothering us, Malfoy?"

"Believe me, Granger, I have no desire to get chummy with the likes of you. I'm trying to apologize to Rose, but Weasley there is making it difficult."

At his explanation, Rose straightened, flushing. "Then, apologize, Draco."

The room started buzzing with instant rumors and speculation. The noise level was too loud for him to follow the rest of the conversation, but Draco's actions surprised him completely. The usually arrogant child looked unusually sincere when making his apology, which ended in a formal bow. There was no denying the boy had manners when he chose to use them.

Heaping insult to injury on Ronald Weasley, Draco coolly undid his hex as he turned his back to the group and sauntered slowly to the Slytherin table. Longbottom, who appeared perplexed at the entire exchange, had to physically restrain Weasley from going after him. Hermione was biting her lip, a sure sign that she didn't understand anything that had just happened either, but Miss Potter calmly watched Mr. Malfoy retreat, an unreadable expression on her face.

Once Draco sat down, the group headed to the Gryffindor table. The exchange had lasted less than five minutes, and they seemed in no rush to shovel breakfast in their mouths. (Except for Weasley—it was truly remarkable and disgusting the amount of food that boy could eat.)

Even Rose ate with gusto, filling her plate with eggs, toast and sausages. He was glad to see her eat. Molly had sent him regular updates during the two weeks Rose had spent at the Burrow, and there had been several days when the Weasley matron had been forced to coax the girl to eat. It seemed Hogwarts truly agreed with her.

McGonagall abruptly pulled him out of his musings. "That was a dangerous thing you did, Severus, but I think it was of benefit to both Mr. Malfoy and Miss Potter. Merlin's beard, but did I hear him call her Rose? As far as I know, Mr. Malfoy has never referred to her by her first name before today."

Snape chuckled wickedly. "And, she called him Draco. Well, I have always thought their confrontations would be less volatile if they simply kissed and got it over with."

His fellow teacher was shocked and appalled. "Severus! You can't possibly think—"

He immediately sobered. "No, Minerva, I don't think it would be wise for the two of them to pursue a relationship. For one thing, they are mere children, and for another, I can't imagine that Rose is emotionally ready after seeing her reaction to Mr. Weasley today. However, there are reasons that clichés are clichéd, and it is very true that Mr. Malfoy will do almost anything to gain Miss Potter's attention."

"I've never thought about it that way," she admitted tremulously, as if the very idea was disturbing. "I fear you are correct, however. Rose's reaction to Mr. Weasley's anger was troubling."

"What did you expect from her after such an attack?" he asked with annoyance. "That she would be the same carefree child that she has always seemed to be? Well, let me be the first to inform you, Minerva, that she has never been a carefree child. She came to Hogwarts with deep emotional scars after a lifetime of neglect and abuse at the hands of her loathsome relatives, while we all assumed that she had been a pampered princess. That is, after all, the way the Girl-Who-Lived would have been raised in the wizarding world, is it not?"

Students were gradually leaving the Great Hall and the other teachers had all left some minutes ago. Neither professor, however, seemed to notice, too wrapped up in their private conversation.

McGonagall frizzed like an angry cat. "I am not as naïve as you would believe, Severus! Yes, I had hoped that obliviation would spare her the pain from her ordeal, but I've already admitted to being wrong on that point. And, you are not the only one who cares for the child. I told Albus not to leave her with those Muggles, but once he's made up his mind, he rarely listens to an opposing point of view. I cannot erase what has been done to her in the past, but I am trying to do what's best for her now. I am her Head of House, and it is my responsibility to see to it that she receives the help she needs. So do not lecture me about Rose!"

He immediately apologized, and she accepted his apology with a sniff. It was only then that they looked up and realized they were alone. With a hasty, "we'll talk later," McGonagall practically flew out of the Hall. The Potions Master wished he dared fly to his class; he knew with his limp he would be at least a few minutes late. Revealing such an ability, however, would be foolish in the extreme. Flying without a broom was an exceedingly rare talent that only the most skilled wizard could master. Spy or no spy, he had no intention of giving his enemies such an insight into his power.

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><p>Severus ate a cheese pasty at his desk, rereading the training regimen Poppy had prescribed for him. It included daily potions, adequate rest, strengthening exercises and an admonition to keep stress at bay as much as possible. He stared bleakly at the last item. His life had never been carefree, and it was not about to become peaceful now.<p>

"Professor Snape?"

He looked up from the parchment he had been reading. "Good afternoon, Miss Potter. Shouldn't you be at lunch?"

She shrugged, and he had to bite back the temptation to berate her for not eating. Instead, he motioned at the tray the house elves had prepared, but she merely shook her head. He'd deal with her lack of appetite later; something was obviously bothering her.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

The anxious girl began to wring her hands, blurting out her question like her tongue was on fire. "_Doyouthinkmymum wouldbedisappointedinme_?"

Well used to the nervous speech of his students, he had no trouble interpreting her words. The unexpected question, though, caught him off guard. "What in the name of Circe has happened to make you worry about that? Lily would have been very proud of you."

There was more wringing of the hands. "I'm a coward, Professor."

Incensed that she could think such a thing, he exploded. "Did Mr. Malfoy suggest that to you this morning? He'll serve detention for the rest of the year if I hear of any such thing! There is no shame in being afraid of Sirius Black! He is a most foul wizard who enjoys the pain of others! It is understandable to be afraid of that madman! I certainly am!"

Unlike the scene in the Great Hall that morning, Rose didn't react to his temper like she had Ron's. However, she was astonished at his admission. "Are you really frightened of Sirius Black, Professor? I wouldn't think anything could frighten you."

Taking a deep breath, he did his best to regain his equilibrium. "A witch or wizard would have to be insane not to fear Sirius Black, Miss Potter. Believe me when I tell you that your mother would be very proud of you. Professor Flitwick often brags in the teacher's lounge about your talent for charms. Your mother was one of his favorite students, you know. You have no cause to be ashamed, and I will be speaking to Mr. Malfoy about his insults."

Her hands stilled as she quickly refuted his wrong impression. "Draco didn't say anything bad to me, Professor. He was actually civil once he stopped shouting."

"Then, who has so wrongly convinced you that you are a coward?"

Cheeks reddening in shame, she hastily looked away. "No one had to convince me. I already know it. If I wasn't a coward, then I wouldn't be scared to make up my Defense lesson with Professor Lupin."

Though he managed to keep his voice even, there was a dangerous chill to his tone. "If he has done anything untoward, I will rip him apart limb from limb myself."

"Nothing like that, Professor Snape! He's been really nice . . . . I mean, he came into the Hospital Wing yesterday to give me my assignment and started talking about Mum and Dad all on his own. He was one of Dad's best friends, but I guess you knew that, huh?"

"I do."

His tone made it clear that he wouldn't appreciate any questions on that subject, and she didn't pursue it. Instead, she finally admitted what had made her so uncomfortable.

"Anyway, the lesson I missed was on boggarts, and Professor Lupin suggested we meet after supper to make it up. But Hermione told me a boggart shows your worst fear, and Ron said his was a spider, and he hates spiders, Professor, and I'm just worried that I'll see something that scares me so much I won't be able to move, and the boggart will eat me or something, which would be a very embarrassing way to die, especially since everyone else hasn't had any trouble with them."

If he hadn't seen the earnest expression on her face he would have thought she was joking. He knew some students became anxious about their classes, but this was Rose Potter and Defense against the Dark Arts. Rose was by far the best Defense student of her year, although, considering the two previous teachers the third years had been forced to endure, that might not be as much of an accolade as first thought.

Then again, exposing Rose to a boggart right now was as dangerous as adding Alihotsy leaves to a Calming Draught. "Perhaps it's best to study the theory rather than attempt a practical experiment."

She sputtered with indignation. "But, I thought you'd tell me that I was being a nutter and I should face my fears."

Her reaction shocked him to the core. She had come to him for encouragement. Why did she suddenly trust him so much? She didn't remember what he had done for her.

"Why didn't you consult your own Head of House, Miss Potter? Professor McGonagall is very good at counseling her students.

She shrugged, obviously ill at ease. He deliberately kept silent, knowing she would feel compelled to speak at some point. After a few seconds, she tried to explain.

"It's just, you took me away from the Dursleys. No one's ever cared enough to do that before."

The guilt of his failures threatened to crush him. If he had loved Lily at all, he should have made sure her child was well cared for. "I am sorry I did not think to do so any sooner."

"It's okay, Professor. It's not like anyone else tried, and you didn't put me there. Dumbledore did."

He deliberately ignored her comment, though it only added to his pain.

"You wish me to help you face your fears."

For the first time, she stood tall and resolute, her chin held high like the Gryffindor she was. "Well, it's not as if I like being a coward, Professor."

"Indeed. And, what would you have me do, Miss Potter?"

Again, she unconsciously wrung her hands. "Could you come with me to Professor Lupin's office? That way, if I get too scared, you could, I don't know, help."

He could point out that Lupin was competent enough to keep her from being harmed by the boggart, whatever form it took. He could turn her down on the grounds that she should go to Professor McGonagall with such a request. He could refuse without reason, too unsettled by the fact that she had shown such simple trust in him. In the end, though, there was only one possible answer.

"Remain in the Great Hall after you eat your supper and I shall accompany you to your lesson."

"Really?"

He suppressed an eye roll. If she hadn't believed in the possibility that he'd agree, then why had she asked in the first place?"

"Are your ears overflowing with wax, Miss Potter? I distinctly remember speaking clearly. I assure you that I am well aware of the times I stutter."

His sarcasm flew over her head. "Oh, no, Professor. I know you didn't stutter. You've gotten a whole lot better since you took me away from Privet Drive."

"A matter which I believe is best kept secret."

"Don't worry about that, Professor. Mr. Weasley already told me not to mention it to anyone. Only the Weasleys and Hermione know."

"A wise decision. Now, I believe that you have a Herbology lesson to attend in a less than fifteen minutes. Take a pasty with you as you leave. It wouldn't do for you to faint on top of the plants. Some of them might take offense."

She smiled at his pathetic attempt at a joke, and he was poignantly reminded of Lily. Rose might have Potter's hair and face, but she had definitely inherited her mother's smile.

"Yes, Professor!" she called out as she grabbed a pasty and ran out the door. "See you tonight!"

Banishing the tray back to the kitchens, Snape did his best not to dwell on his promise as he prepared for his next class. He was not looking forward to accompanying Miss Potter to her Defense lesson, and for once it had nothing to do with being in the presence of the wolf. Boggarts, he had to admit, terrified him as much as they did Rose.


	11. The Boggart

Author's Notes - Thanks to FleurSuoh for the review. I'm updating as quickly as I can. In this chapter, Rose and Serverus face the boggart. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. Reviews are always welcome and appreciated!

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><p>Snape pushed a lump of mashed potatoes around his plate, his appetite nonexistent. Finally, when he couldn't stand it anymore, he leaned over Minerva McGonagall to hiss insistently at Remus Lupin.<p>

"Do you truly think it wise, Remus, to have Miss Potter face a boggart? Her fears are not those of an ordinary student."

Professor McGonagall had opened her mouth to comment, but Professor Lupin beat her to it. "I have no intention of asking Rose to face the boggart locked in my office, Severus. I've asked her to meet me after dinner so I can show her how to cast the _Riddikulus _charm. I can assure you that I have no desire to meet Voldemort tonight."

Snape automatically grimaced at the use of the Dark Lord's name, but his thoughts were three steps ahead. "And, did you inform Miss Potter of the fact that she would not be facing the creature?"

"Now that I think about it, I did not. I simply told her that she could make up the lesson she had missed after dinner. It's not that important, is it?"

"Not to you, perhaps," he explained, his exasperation giving his words an oily, sarcastic edge. "Miss Potter, however, spent most of the morning and afternoon in abject terror over the prospect of facing such a creature. She managed to convince herself that she was a coward and a disappointment to the memory of her mother."

Both Remus and Minerva looked shocked. Filius Flitwick, who sat on Snape's left, keenly leaned closer to better hear the exchange.

Lupin looked mortified as he took his napkin off his lap. "I'll go tell her straightaway that she doesn't have to face it. She shouldn't think there is any shame to her fear."

"Stay," Snape commanded in the same tone he had used to berate Vernon Dursley. "The damage has already been done. In typical Gryffindor fashion, Miss Potter is now determined to meet the boggart at any cost. I will accompany her to your office in case her boggart takes on a form one person alone might have difficulty subduing."

Minerva couldn't stay silent any longer. "Well, you won't be going without me; that's for sure. I'm her Head of House, and I insist on being present. Besides, if her boggart does turn into Voldemort, then it might take several of us to distract it."

"I'll help," Flitwick added in his usual, squeaky voice. "_Riddikulus_ is a charm, and I don't think anyone can deny that I have the most skill with charms, even you, Severus."

"Perhaps we should invite the Headmaster as well," Remus offered after no one dared contradict the Charms Professor.

"NO!" Both Severus and Minerva had forcefully vetoed the idea in unison, leaving Lupin and Flitwick bemused. After a quick glance between them, the Potions Master continued in a more controlled tone.

"There is no reason to involve Albus. The day four teachers cannot handle one child's boggart is the day we should all resign from Hogwarts. No doubt Miss Potter will be nervous enough performing in front of the four of us. Let's not make this a complete circus, shall we?"

The others agreed, and dinner seemed to drag as they all pushed their food around their plates, too lost in their own thoughts to focus on eating. When the students had been dismissed from the Great Hall, McGonagall, Lupin and Flitwick left together, while Professor Snape made his way to the Gryffindor table.

From the number of Gryffindors still seated around Miss Potter, it was apparent that her allies were attempting to bolster her with their support. While a noble sentiment, he saw no evidence that their concern had in any way helped the girl. Her plate was untouched, and her cheeks were unnaturally pale.

"It's time, Miss Potter."

He saw her swallow as if forcing back bile, but her eyes were determined as she stood. Giving her friends a shaky smile, she unthinkingly grabbed his hand as a toddler might reach for the hand of a parent for comfort. Momentarily immobilized by his shock, he was well aware of the curious stares of the nearby students. Ronald Weasley, in fact, looked like he might be sick, but the twins immediately whacked him on the back of his head with their napkins, diverting his attention.

Rose didn't seem to notice everyone's eyes upon them, just like she didn't seem to realize that she had put her hand in his. Instinct told him to snatch his hand away and give her a scathing lecture, but he kept a tight lid on that reaction. Instead, he acted as if nothing had happened, leading her out of the Great Hall. He kept his right hand relaxed the entire time, in case she wished to pull away, but she did nothing of the sort. In fact, she began to swing their arms as they walked down the hall.

His slow gait meant that there was ample opportunity for other students to see them together. He glared at them all indiscriminately, daring anyone to comment. Thankfully, most of his Slytherins were in the dungeons by now, but he knew that he'd hear from them by morning. Very few things remained secret at Hogwarts, which was one of the reasons he was known for his reticence. A spy who couldn't keep his secrets was a dead spy.

Thankfully, Lupin's office was on the second floor, and not the seventh. As they approached the Defense classroom, Snape gently pulled his hand away. Rose gave him a startled look, as if she had just realized what she had done, but didn't comment.

Holding his hand on the doorknob, Severus hastily prepared Rose for the additional witnesses. "You will perform admirably, Miss Potter, just like you always do. And, if I am proven wrong this one time, there will be ample help available. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick have decided to attend the lesson.

Her eyebrows disappeared into her bangs, but he didn't give her a chance to protest as he opened the door. Entering, he found that his fellow professors had moved the trunk out of Lupin's office and into the classroom itself. He did not have to hobble up yet another set of stairs after all.

Rose's face turned scarlet when she realized she was the center of attention. "Good evening, Professors," she belatedly thought to say as she stared at the rattling trunk in the room.

"Good evening, Rose," the wolf said warmly, and Snape repressed an urge to lecture Lupin on familiarity with students. Considering he had just walked from the Great Hall to the Defense classroom holding Miss Potter's hand, he prudently decided he might not be the most suited to give that lecture.

With Flitwick and Lupin present, the theoretical lesson was completed in record time. Miss Potter seemed fairly knowledgeable about the subject, although Snape suspected Miss Granger's hand in her preparation. After several passable incantations of the _Riddikulus_ charm, it was time to face the monster in the room—literally.

McGonagall, Lupin and Flitwick were quick to give Miss Potter ideas to make the Dark Lord look ridiculous, although he doubted the most feared wizard of his time would look any less intimidating wrapped up like a mummy than he would dressed in his usual black robes. Again, he kept silent, offering no advice. This was Miss Potter's boggart, and only Miss Potter could decide how to overcome it. They were merely there to distract it in case she failed.

After a multitude of somewhat bizarre suggestions, he and his colleagues aligned themselves in a loose square around Rose and the trunk, wands ready. When Miss Potter gave the go ahead, Remus flicked his wand, releasing the creature. It rose to a terrifying height, although its shape was too diaphanous to make out. Slowly, it solidified, not into the expected Dark Lord, but into a dementor.

The room grew cold and the candles dimmed. Snape felt the absolute melancholy that comes with despair as he watched Rose stand before the foul creature. Filius, Minerva and Remus were likewise affected. As he fought his own emotions, he waited for the child to cast the charm, but her wand shook in her hand.

After several seconds that stretched to an eternity, he saw her body crumple to the ground. The boggart turned dementor closed the gap between them, ready to apply the kiss.

"Never!"

Horrified, Severus somehow managed to propel himself to Rose's side. Painfully kneeling on the floor, he cradled Rose against him in an effort to warm her chilled body. The others stood in paralyzed shock as they watched the boggart change its shape.

Albus Dumbledore stood over a bloodied image of Rose, his face a thunderous cloud of anger and loathing. His robes were a plain gray, but the powerful wizard didn't need any garish colors to draw attention to himself as the very air crackled with the force of his magic.

"You did this, Severus! You are the reason Rose is dead! Once again you have killed the very thing you tried to protect!"

Still cradling a very much alive Rose Potter, Snape faced his boggart, completely undone.

"No, it's not my f-fault. I t-tried, but I was t-t-too l-late. I'm a-a-always too late."

But the image of the powerful wizard did not accept his excuses. "You're pathetic! You always have been! You couldn't prevent the child from being brutally violated, and yet you still had the arrogance to think you could protect her from Voldemort. She's dead because of you! Just like her mother! You'll never be able to protect the one's you love! You are a useless—"

Suddenly, Dumbledore and the dead Rose disappeared and in their place was a glowing full moon. Remus deftly cast the spell to banish the boggart back into the box. Kneeling down in front of the Potions Master, he touched his arm. Severus flinched violently, but it seemed to pull him back to reality.

"Let me take a look at Rose, Severus."

Only then did he realize how tightly he clutched the child. Relaxing his hold, he passively allowed Remus to take her. Minerva was suddenly at his side. Still in the grip of his waking nightmare, he began to gibber like a child.

"I t-tried, Professor, I really did, but I was t-too late. They had t-t-tossed her aside like she was g-garbage, and all I could do was get her to Poppy, but I c-c-couldn't even do that properly. I let a damn d-dog sneak up on me, and s-s-she almost died because of it."

He was crying now, too overcome to realize just what he was revealing and to whom.

"It was L-Lily all over again. I t-tried so hard to s-s-s-save her. I betrayed the Dark Lord for h-her. I b-b-begged Albus to hide her away. I promised I would g-give him anything if he a-agreed to p-p-protect her. I b-became a s-spy for the Order, living in f-fear that I would be killed every t-time I had to look into the eyes of that vile w-wizard. And, s-she s-s-s-still d-died. She died, and I w-wanted to d-die, t-too. But, he w-wouldn't let me. He said I had to p-protect Rose. And l-l-look how well that turned out; I c-couldn't even p-protect her from a bunch of Mug-Muggles!"

He was too hysterical to see the reactions to his confession, but all three of his colleagues were shocked and appalled to hear how much Dumbledore had asked of him, and how harshly he judged himself. Minerva, especially, was hit hard, remembering him as a talented, but withdrawn child who had constantly been picked on by his peers, his only friend a sunny, ginger-haired girl who had abruptly stopped speaking to him at the end of his fifth year.

"Oh, my boy, my poor, poor boy. I'm so, so sorry."

She patted his back as he released years' worth of bottled emotions. Eventually, he quieted, only slowly understanding what he had done. When he regained his composure, he was mortified.

"If you'll excuse me, I shall g-go p-pack my th-things."

McGonagall hastily wiped tears from her eyes before swiftly disabusing him of that notion. "Severus Snape, you'll do no such thing! You are the bravest, most selfless man I have ever met. You are not allowed to run away when we need you the most."

"Need, M-M-Minerva? You can hardly n-need a cr-cr-cripple."

Remus handed him a large chunk of chocolate. "It's obvious that Rose needs you, Severus, and you're still the best Potions Master in Britain."

Silently eating the chocolate, Severus did feel better, although his shame still threatened to overwhelm him. To take his mind off of it, he demanded, "Where is R-Rose?"

Remus and Minerva shared troubled glances. "She's unconscious. Filius took her to the Hospital Wing. The boggart seems to have copied a dementor perfectly. Whatever affected Rose so dramatically after her last encounter seems to have repeated itself."

"Help me up."

Minerva stared at him incredulously. "You can't mean—"

But Remus held his hand out, silencing her objections. Snape stared at that hand for a very long time before grasping it. With more strength than he would have thought the thin wizard could possess, Remus hauled him upright, steadying him until McGonagall could retrieve his cane.

"We need to talk," Lupin stated bluntly. "Flitwick included. I'm sorry, Severus, but you can't expect us to simply ignore what we heard. Am I to understand that Rose was assaulted by Muggles? How in Merlin's name was that kept quiet?"

Minerva's pent-up rage spilled into her speech. "Albus took it upon himself to obliviate her, Remus! The poor child doesn't remember her attack, although she bears the emotional scars. He had the nerve to suggest to her guardians that they tell her she had been in one of those Muggle auto accidents!"

"And, she was . . . that is, it was . . . ."

"Rape," Snape supplied, his voice heavy with revulsion. "Only, it wasn't enough for the-them. They b-b-b-beat her to the p-point of d-death."

"And, you were attacked by a dog, not injured in a potions accident."

Snape nodded to indicate this was true.

"What color dog?"

They both stared at Lupin like he was crazy, but Snape answered nonetheless. "Too d-dark to s-s-see."

"Of course."

"That's it," McGonagall declared in her most authoritative voice. "Severus, back to your quarters. You need rest, and I know better than to ask if you would consent to spending the night in the Hospital Wing. Remus and I will sit with Rose tonight, and the four of us will meet tomorrow evening to discuss the best way to help her. I will inform Filius of the need for secrecy, although I'm sure he's worked that out by himself."

He wasn't sure he could make it down to his quarters, but his pride wouldn't allow him to ask for help. Enough people had seen his worthlessness for one night. By the time he made it back to his quarters, he was too tired to do anything but crash onto the sofa. Within minutes, he was asleep.

* * *

><p>"<em>Sev, can you help me with Rose? She's much too rambunctious for me to keep up with this morning what with the twins kicking me every few minutes."<em>

"_What?" he asked stupidly, taking in the sight of his beautiful, very pregnant wife still dressed in her nightgown._

"_Honestly, Sev! Sometimes, I think all those fumes dull your brain. It's nothing, really. Just, take care of Rose while I lie down for a while, please. She's eager to play in the garden, and I don't think I can keep up with her with my back hurting like it does."_

_Worried by her complaint, he temporarily ignored their raven-haired toddler to rest his hands on his wife's distended abdomen. "Early labor often takes the form of back pains, Lily. And, you're very close to your due date. Are you sure it's nothing?"_

_A blush crept up her neck. "Well, I'm not sure. I thought I'd lie down to see if it was just another bout of false labor before I worried you."_

"_Lily!"_

"_What?" She smiled innocently. "It could be nothing."_

"_You're going to be the death of me, witch. Back into bed. I'll take care of Rose if you promise to tell me the moment you're sure that you're in labor."_

_He helped her back into bed, but as soon as she lay down, her water broke. She grinned like a loon. "Well, I'm sure now."_

_He kissed her then, as excited as she. Picking up Rose, he calmly explained that her brother and sister were going to be born soon. The little girl with the best of her mother's features clapped her hands in excitement. He put her down, intending to call her Auntie Minerva to take care of her when he noticed a very different Lily standing near the bed._

"_I like this dream, Sev. I wish you would let go of my memory and allow yourself the reality. Surely there is someone . . ."_

"_Only you," he interrupted. Dream or not, he refused to have this conversation with Lily._

_She was dressed in slacks this time, although they were thirteen years out of date. Her paisley shirt clashed with her beautiful hair, but it had been the height of fashion for its time. That's when he knew it was her, the Lily of the vision. The one who had forgiven him, the one he had failed._

"_I arrived too late, Lily. I am deeply sorry that I couldn't save Rose."_

_She briefly turned away, and when she looked back, her eyes glistened with tears. "Rose is alive, which is more than I could have hoped for that night, Severus. You did not fail her. Do not blame yourself for the actions of others. You were so very brave and sacrificed so much to save her."_

"_It was idiotic of me not to be more on guard. I deserve what that dog did to me."_

_She opened her mouth to say something, but no sound came out. Clearly disgruntled, she snapped it closed before attempting to speak again._

"_All you deserve is my heartfelt gratitude. I am honored that you are as protective of Rose as you would be of your own daughter. Allow me the hope that you will one day find someone to make the rest of your dream a reality."_

"_Lily—"_

_She smiled mischievously, not allowing him to have the last word. "I forgave you, Sev, remember? That means you should forgive yourself. There is no shame in living."_

_With that, she was gone._

He woke with a muffled sob, not quite understanding how someone he had hurt so badly could be so generous.


	12. Useful Skills in Deception

Author's Notes - Although he'd never admit it, Snape's breakdown in the last chapter most likely had a few positive effects. In this chapter, you'll see just how determined he is to keep his vow to Lily. Thanks to FleurSuoh for reviewing the last chapter. Unlike Vincent van Gogh, I definitely find it easier to create knowing my work is appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>The next morning, Severus Snape's mood was as forbidding as the stormy clouds which concealed the sunrise. It mattered little to him. He dressed for a deluge and made his way to the lake. He had shown quite enough weakness in front of witnesses the previous night, and he wasn't about to chance a repeat performance.<p>

Step by agonizingly slow step, he walked around the lake, determined to improve his strength and muscle mass. As he did so, he let his thoughts flow free. He wasn't surprised to find himself replaying the dream in which Lily had encouraged him to . . . well, basically, get himself a girl.

He bit back sardonic laughter. She truly did not know the depth of his devotion if she thought such a thing possible. The realization did not upset him. He had always been more devoted to Lily than she to him, but he would never dare to hold that against her.

Her observation that he now considered himself a father figure to her daughter Rose, however, was true enough. This time, he couldn't hold back a grimace as he pondered the irony. He'd spent the last thirteen years resenting the child precisely because of her father. Yet, here he was, suddenly thrust in that role, only to find it all too easy to indulge in the fantasy.

It wouldn't last; it couldn't. One day, she would discover who had given the prophecy to the Dark Lord, and she would hate him as much as he had ever hated James Potter. Worse, there was no explanation he could offer to mitigate his decision. He had been a selfish young fool back then, giving little thought to the consequences of his actions with disastrous results. In truth, he deserved a cell in Azkaban as much as Sirius Black.

Yet, she deserved and needed so much more. He had to see this through, to equip her with the skills necessary to defend herself from all who would wish her harm. He was no coward, but the thought of opening himself up again, to become a mentor to Rose with the sure knowledge that one day she would rightfully reject him was almost too much to bear.

It had been so much easier to snarl and snipe and protect her from afar. From a distance, he could think of her as The-Girl-Who-Lived, and not Rose, the girl who longed so much to hear her mother's voice that she wondered if a dementor attack might not be worth it. Emotionally detached, he wouldn't care that Dumbledore had obliviated her. The aftermath of her assault would simply be an inconvenience to slip under the rug.

By the time he had finished his morning exercise, he was certain of two things. One, he hurt like hell and his entire body trembled with fatigue. The road to recovery was going to be a long one. And, two, it was essential that Rose learn the Patronus Charm as soon as possible. Being victimized again and again whether by fear, boggart or dementor would only leech her remaining self-confidence. A Patronus would serve as a strong defense against a myriad of threats, and her ability to cast one would be a significant boost to her self-esteem.

Trudging back to the castle as the rain poured down, Severus looked in vain for the stray he had seen the day before. He hoped the mutt was somewhere warm and dry before dismissing the desire to search for him. Finally inside, he cast a quick _Scourgify_ on his boots and clothes so he wouldn't drip all over the stone floor. There was no need to give Filch extra work so early in the morning.

If he hurried, he could shower, change and present himself at the Headmaster's office before his first class began. He had a plan, which if successful, would result in the powerful wizard suggesting that Rose should learn how to cast a Patronus. It was important that Albus not suspect the lengths he could go to help this particular student nor the bond that was rapidly developing between himself and Lily's child. Dumbledore had often likened himself to a chess master, and as such, would not appreciate one of his pawns suddenly taking it upon itself to become a knight.

* * *

><p>"Might I have a word, Albus?"<p>

Having showered, dressed and taken an Invigoration Draught, Snape was as ready to face the Headmaster as he ever would be. He wished he'd had time for breakfast, but with only forty minutes before his first Potions class, he knew that was not to be.

Seated at his desk, a pot of tea and a plate of scones in front of him, Dumbledore looked genuinely pleased to see him. "Ah, Severus, come in and have a seat. Have you had breakfast?"

"Regretfully, no," he admitted, eyeing the plate of scones.

"Then by all means, have some of mine, my boy." The Headmaster quickly transfigured a paperweight into a teacup and poured Severus a cup of steaming hot tea. He then pushed the plate towards him. "Take as many as you'd like. I had a full breakfast soon after waking."

Idly, Severus wondered just how early Albus Dumbledore got out of bed each day before pushing that thought aside. Once he had taken a bite out of a buttery pumpkin scone, he got straight to the point, deliberately putting a healthy dose of derision in his voice.

"I suppose you've heard that Miss Potter is in the Hospital Wing yet again?"

The Headmaster gave him a frank stare, and he confidently met his gaze, giving the man carefully edited memories of the previous night. He hid the memory of his own boggart while allowing Dumbledore to see how close Rose had come to being kissed. He looked somewhat taken aback, and Snape repressed a smile. He knew exactly what the older wizard's reaction would be.

Leaning forward in his chair, the Headmaster put his hands together, his expression troubled. "Madame Pomfrey had informed me that Rose had fainted after encountering a boggart. She did not mention that her boggart took the form of a dementor. This is most troubling, Severus. I did not realize that she had been affected so deeply by her ordeal on the train."

He responded as if he could care less about her emotional wellbeing. "I'm sure a mind healer would have a field day with the symbolism, but I believe we should be more concerned with the opportunity such a weakness provides. This would be the perfect excuse to demand that the Ministry remove the dementors from Hogwarts, Headmaster. If you were to inform the Minister of the girl's susceptibility to the dementors' dark influences, then I'm sure Fudge would back down and remove the guards who keep us constrained as much as they keep Sirius Black out."

"Do you really think it's wise to involve the Ministry, Severus? They have always been eager to press any excuse in order to make Rose a ward of court."

Knowing that this was the most dangerous part of his plan, he occluded his mind and sneered at the argument. "You speak of one child, Albus, while I am arguing for the benefit of all. The dementors are dangerous. It's only a matter of time before they become too famished to be restrained and attack a student, or some idiotic child tries to get past them on a dare and is kissed. Miss Potter's pride should not come before the safety of the school."

As he carefully watched the Headmaster's expression, he noticed the instant the wizard made up his mind. His blue eyes grew misty, and his countenance became regretful. If Snape hadn't known that Dumbledore had fought tooth and nail to not have the Dementors placed at Hogwarts in the first place, he truly would have thought his hands were tied.

"Of course, you are quite correct, Severus. The dementors are dangerous. But, at the moment, they are also the best defense we have against Sirius Black. He was spotted in Hogsmeade last night, and I cannot in good conscience ask the Ministry to remove such fearsome guards just as the threat to the students grows all too real. I shall reiterate my warning against going out of bounds, and I shall ask the Aurors to make doubly sure that the creatures are controlled."

As the last bite of pumpkin scone stuck in Snape's throat, he swallowed thickly. Black had been seen in Hogsmeade and the Headmaster hadn't bothered to inform the staff. What the hell was the man thinking? Before he could forget himself and demand answers, Dumbledore continued in a more thoughtful tone.

"It is troubling, however, that Miss Potter is so affected by the dementors. It would be catastrophic if one of them were to actually harm her. I wonder, Severus, if you would consent to teaching her the Patronus Charm. Such a skill would be an invaluable one for her."

His apparent disdain for such an idea was immediately evident. "You expect me to teach Potter a NEWT level spell, Headmaster?"

At this, Dumbledore broke out into a smile, and Snape had the urge right then to punch the man in the mouth.

"I have never had any reservations about your ability as a teacher, Serverus. I am certain that Rose will be able to learn from your example. Besides, perhaps you will see that she is someone worthy of the sacrifice you made on her behalf."

His irritation at the Headmaster's constant manipulation was real enough. "I would have done the same for anyone I had found in a similar situation. Do not mistake my actions for affection, Albus."

"I would do nothing of the sort," he answered with a humorous glint in his eye that belied his statement. After a pause, he asked in a more sober tone, "So, you will teach Rose how to conjure a Patronus?"

He feigned reluctance, although he wished to shout in triumph. "If that is what you would have me do, Albus."

"Good, my boy, then it's settled. I'll leave it up to you, Severus, to schedule the lessons, but I do urge you to begin sooner rather than later."

"Yes, Headmaster." Standing stiffly, he grabbed his cane. Just before he exited the office, he turned with what passed for a smile pasted onto his face. "And, thank you for the scones, Albus. Perhaps you could convince the house elves to prepare them more often."

Genuinely pleased, the twinkle in his eyes became more pronounced. "An excellent suggestion, Severus. I will speak of it immediately."

Making his slow descent to the dungeons, Snape knew he would be a few minutes late for his first year class, but he didn't care. He'd just been granted permission to teach Rose the Patronus Charm, and Dumbledore didn't suspect a thing. Perhaps he still had some useful skills in deception after all.

* * *

><p>Rose was absent from Potions that afternoon, sending Snape into a tailspin. What was wrong with her? Had the stress of facing the boggart turned dementor finally broken her? He had been too busy with classes to check on her in the morning, and had skipped lunch to work on the Wolfsbane Potion. Surely Minerva would have sent a message if she had been seriously injured?<p>

His anxiety must have been apparent because Miss Granger quietly approached him as students gathered that day's Potions ingredients.

"I'm sure Rose will be alright, Professor. Madame Pomfrey said I could visit her once she regained consciousness."

"Thank you, Miss Granger," he haltingly replied as she stood in line to retrieve three frog legs required for the Stretching Solution they were to brew that day. For some inexplicable reason, his polite thank you seemed to open the floodgates, and suddenly students were eager to speak to him.

After cordially discussing a few tricks to the Stretching Solution with Dean Thomas and Parvati Patil, the Potions Master glanced up to find Ronald Weasley standing awkwardly in front of him, a small vial of sap from the rubber tree clutched in his hand. "What happened last night, Professor? Professor Lupin wouldn't say anything except that Rose had some trouble with her boggart."

This time, he wasn't so amicable. Really, Weasley made it all too easy. "If Professor Lupin did not deem it appropriate to inform you, Mr. Weasley, do not expect me to."

Unfortunately, Draco was within earshot and couldn't help but comment. "Potter couldn't even face a boggart? What was it? Her missing the snitch?"

Snape stood so he could deliberately tower over the arrogant brat. There was a harsh edge to his voice that caused several students, including Neville Longbottom, to drop their frog legs. "If you will use that brain in your head, Mr. Malfoy, you might realize that Miss Potter's greatest fear is not so ordinary."

It didn't take Draco long to draw the wrong conclusion. "You mean she saw . . . ?"

The Potions Master didn't give him the opportunity to finish the sentence. He did not want to tell an outright lie when a false assumption worked so much better. "Now do you understand why she might have been rendered unconscious?"

As pale as the Bloody Baron, Draco nodded, going back to his cauldron to whisper heatedly to Crabbe and Goyle. By the end of dinner, every student in Hogwarts would believe that Rose had faced Voldemort. Her trip to the Hospital Wing would be seen in a much more sympathetic light.

If only he could stop worrying about her. Miss Granger's comment implied that Rose had not regained consciousness before the beginning of classes that morning. What possible horror could she have relived this time?

* * *

><p>As soon as his last student had hurried out of the classroom, Snape walked towards the staff room, intending to inform McGonagall, Flitwick and Lupin of his success with the Headmaster before heading to the Hospital Wing to check on Rose. As he neared the Entrance Hall, however, he stopped abruptly, flabbergasted by the sight before him.<p>

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore called out in his most gracious tone. "I was just about to send a student to fetch you, my boy. It seems you have a visitor."

Belatedly, he acknowledged the witch standing before him. "Mrs. Malfoy, how good of you to see me. If you'll excuse us, Headmaster?"

"Of course, of course."

Snape barely noticed Albus take his leave. His eyes were too focused on Narcissa Malfoy. Her stylish navy robes were impeccably tailored to match her deep blue eyes. The years had been kind to her, although a few telltale lines around her face attested to a lifetime of hidden anxiety.

Unbidden, the thought of the dream he'd had the night before rose to the forefront of his mind, where he quickly squelched it. He was not some hormonal teenager rebounding from a bad breakup, and she was not some giggly student. This was Lucius' wife, and no matter how kind she had been to him when they were at Hogwarts together, he would do well to remember that important fact. He did not want to be cursed into an early grave for inappropriate thoughts.

Still, his heart couldn't help but beat a little faster at the sight of her. What the hell was she doing there?


	13. Man's Best Friend

"Tea, Narcissa?"

Severus glanced around at his office, wishing that it could be instantly transfigured into a large, airy space, rather than the cramped, dark room it was in reality. He couldn't stand the thought of the woman sitting across from his desk judging him by the cold, depressing atmosphere.

"That would be lovely, Severus."

She did not appear to be put off by the lack of natural light. In fact, she seemed quite at ease. He wished he could feel the same, but he knew his awkwardness must be all too apparent as they waited in silence while one of the Hogwarts house elves brought them a tray of tea and biscuits.

He did his best to sound nonchalant as he broke the uncomfortable silence. "I must admit, Narcissa, that I wondered how you would receive your son's missive. However, a personal conference is not what I had imagined."

She smiled then, and her expression was warm and open. "It's not every day I receive such a letter from Draco, Severus. My curiosity was certainly peaked. I do not believe my son has apologized to anyone but Lucius in his entire life, and I would like to hear an impartial account of his apology in the Great Hall."

He slowly let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Their conference was just that—a conference, and she was nothing more than a mother concerned about her child, even if they were on friendly terms.

"I was sitting at the High Table, so I didn't hear his apology word for word. However, it seemed to be sincere and polite. He even bowed at the end of it."

She shook her head in fond exasperation. "Draco has always had a flair for the melodramatic, but I am pleased to hear that he was able to swallow his pride and apologize to Miss Potter. I'm afraid that Lucius was most displeased with the child after losing Dobby, and in no uncertain terms voiced his opinion to our son. I feared Draco would be unable to put such opinions aside long enough to carry out your instructions."

She had spoken forthrightly, but there were so many things that could be inferred by her wording that Snape decided to temporarily change the topic. Narcissa, like he, was a Slytherin through and through. If she had a message she wished to convey, she would find another opportunity to slip it into their conversation.

"And, how is Lucius? I've not seen him since my accident." Nor did he expect to, considering that his handicap would likely earn him a death sentence if the Dark Lord ever were to return.

"He is gone for the moment, chasing down some item Borgin had the bad judgment to sell to another before offering it to him."

Did the man never learn? After the previous year, Severus would have thought he might have given up on his obsession with Dark objects.

"How unfortunate for him," leaving it open to interpretation the 'him' to which he referred.

Narcissa's smile was much more cunning this time. "Rather. Although, it does have its perks. I found myself with enough free time to make the trip here. Draco told me of the lasting effects of your injuries. I am relieved to see that you are doing better than I had been led to believe."

Worn out after a day of teaching, Severus was profoundly grateful that he had been able to keep his stutter at bay. Deftly, though, he turned the conversation away from him. "You shouldn't be too surprised, Narcissa. After all, you did say that your son had a flair for the dramatic."

Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "I did, didn't I? He gets that from me, I'm afraid."

He saw the opportunity, and took it, speaking to her in a far more direct manner than he ever would have chanced before his injury. "Channeled correctly, it could be a very useful trait. I'm afraid at the moment, however, it merely combines with his father's pride in exceedingly annoying ways."

The smile froze on her face. "What do you expect, Severus? He is his father's son."

"Perhaps not as much as you might think."

That certainly got her attention. "How so?"

"He lacks his father's . . . conviction. While he can certainly be as arrogant and as prideful as Lucius, his belief in blood purity is blindly parroted rather than zealously supported. When the Dark Lord returns, he will be in a very precarious position."

She leaned forward in her seat. "As will you, Severus. The Dark Lord will see your injuries as a sign of inferior magic, especially in light of you blood status. We must all hope that he is truly gone for good."

It was telling that she had not taken insult from his assessment of her only child. Emboldened, he spoke plainly. "The Dark Lord is not dead, Narcissa, of that much I am certain. He has tried to return to corporeal form twice now, and twice Miss Potter has managed to thwart him. It is only a matter of time before he succeeds."

She sat back, her lips pressed into a thin, grim line. "What future can I then offer my son? When the Dark Lord returns, Lucius will return to his side; that is without question. He will expect Draco to follow. I will have no choice but to support his decision."

Suddenly, he felt old—old and tired. "There is always a choice, Narcissa. It is the consequence which might prove unfavorable."

For a long moment, she searched his face, as if she could read the answer to an unasked question. Then, she regally stood, holding out her hand for him to take. "Thank you, Severus, for caring enough to speak plainly. I confess that I made the trip to call on you as much as to discuss my son's apology. I see now that your accident has had a liberating effect. I am glad. And, I will think on what you have said. Perhaps you are correct. Perhaps we all do have choices. It seems that you have already made yours."

He kissed her hand, impressed by her composure. Most witches or wizards would have been terrified by his assertion that Voldemort would one day return.

"I made my choice a long time ago, Narcissa. I only hope that when the time comes, you will have the courage to make yours."

Her eyes widened at that, and he cursed himself for giving away too much. But, she immediately put his fears to rest.

"Then, my trip to Hogwarts was invaluable, for you have given me much needed hope. Thank you, Severus."

"The pleasure was all mine, Narcissa."

"Perhaps if I find myself with some free time again, I could call on you. I'm sure my son's misdeeds are plentiful enough to warrant a second visit."

"My door is always open for concerned parents," he replied silkily, giving nothing away.

Finally, he managed to get her out of his office without stumbling over his words. He was more flustered than he cared to admit. She had certainly been friendly towards the end of their conversation, and it was going to take him an hour just to replay it over in his mind and search for hidden meanings.

One thing was clear. Narcissa had no desire to see the Dark Lord's return. He wasn't surprised. She had always been more interested in the personal rather than the political. She knew her family stood more to gain from peace than the strife that Voldemort would bring.

He could only hope that she would have the courage to protect Draco from his father's influence. The boy was not the cold-blooded killer Lucius had proven himself to be. While the younger Malfoy spouted blood purity, he rarely attacked a student without provocation, and he never acted alone. In fact, if Crabbe and Goyle were to disappear, Snape suspected that Draco might turn out to be a halfway decent human being.

* * *

><p>As the days turned into weeks and the weeks slipped into October, Severus continued to improve in body if not spirit. His training regimen was beginning to show results; he could now stand on his leg for most of the day, and his limp was less pronounced. His hand also showed signs of improvement.<p>

Only his stutter remained as uncontrolled as it had been the day he had taken Rose from the Dursley household. He learned to compensate, filling his Potions lessons with student led discussions rather than lengthy lectures. He was pleasantly surprised to discover that the students now looked forward to Potions almost as much as they did Defense.

As a result, the practical lessons became less tedious. While inter-House rivalry did not disappear, fewer students were tempted to deliberately sabotage another's potion. That's not to say there weren't exceptions to the rule. Just the day before he had caught Blaise Zabini dropping dried hellebore into Neville Longbottom's cauldron. The resulting gas forced an evacuation of the entire dungeon, and resulted in a one hundred point loss from Slytherin.

Rose and Miss Granger were still the outstanding students in his class, but Draco had recently matched their proficiency brewing several tedious potions. Now that the young man did not waste his time trying to ruin others' work, he was much more successful at his own. Mr. Malfoy also had become quite the gentleman, even to the much hated Pansy Parkinson. It was a welcome change, although the Gryffindors and most of the Ravenclaws remained wary of his reformed behavior.

Strangely enough, Miss Potter was one of the few students who took Draco at his word. Their encounters now were quite civil so long as Mr. Weasley was not present. Ronald Weasley could not accept a well-behaved Malfoy, nor could Draco resist taunting the boy about his family's lack of wealth.

Privately, Severus believed that Draco was jealous of such a large and obviously loving family. Lucius expected the boy to be a perfect carbon copy of himself, and was intolerant of failure. Even after their talk, Narcissa had a tendency to overindulge the boy, no doubt trying to substitute things for affection. He wished the youngest Weasley boy would realize how lucky he was to have such a close family. He would have given anything to have had even one sibling, let alone six. Money truly could not buy happiness.

Pushing open the door to the staffroom with his cane, Severus scanned the crowd, taking his place between Minerva and Filius. Dumbledore nodded in acknowledgement at his tardiness, but didn't mention it since they all knew he had been delayed because of the Wolfsbane Potion. The Dicta Quill at the Headmaster's right dutifully recorded his name as Albus continued to speak about the upcoming Quidditch season.

"The first match is set between Gryffindor and Slytherin. I expect it will be an exciting game, as usual. I know Mr. Wood is hoping to secure the Quidditch Cup this year."

"As is every other captain, Headmaster." Pomona Sprout's gentle reminder that the Gryffindors weren't the only House interested in the Quidditch Cup seemed to surprise Dumbledore, who peered curiously over his half-moon spectacles as if the gentle Herbologist had suggested that mermaids could speak above water.

"You are quite right, Pomona. I'm sure all the Quidditch captains are hoping to win. I'm sure it will be a fine season. Now, if we could move onto the next topic, which, I believe, is the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend. Minerva, please read the list of third years not allowed to leave the grounds."

McGonagal blinked. "All of the third years will be participating, Albus. It is a very popular excursion."

"Oh? I was under the impression that Miss Potter's form had not been signed."

Severus feigned disinterest, supremely relieved that he had not taken it upon himself to sign the child's permission slip. He, Filius and McGonagal had decided amongst themselves to allow Rose to go so long as she was adequately escorted. However, it seemed the Headmaster had other ideas.

Flustered, the Deputy Headmistress pretended to consult her notes. "You are indeed correct, Albus. However, knowing that Miss Potter's guardians are Muggles, I assumed she would not need permission."

"Miss Granger's parents signed her form, did they not? I do believe they are Muggles."

Minerva's temper snapped. "And, you know good and well, Headmaster, that Rose's guardians are nothing like the Grangers! They believe magic to be an abomination that must be stamped out. Of course they didn't sign a form allowing for the girl to visit a wizard village!"

As the entire staff stared uncomfortably at the Transfiguration Professor, Dumbledore appeared to be the epitome of regret. "Unfortunately, Minerva, in this, my hands are tied. We must respect the wishes of Rose's guardians. Miss Potter will not be visiting Hogsmeade."

The feisty witch opened her mouth to retort, but Flitwick put his hand on her arm in warning, and she left her objection unvoiced. Dumbledore watched the exchange with a flicker of interest, and then continued onto the next topic.

"Now, about the Halloween Feast . . ."

Two hours later, the meeting finally adjourned. Severus waited for most of his fellow teachers to leave before making the attempt to stand. Sitting for such a long time had sent spasms of pain down his leg, and he didn't want to make a spectacle of himself if he was unable to walk.

Leaning heavily on his cane, he tested the strength of his left leg. He was not going anywhere for a few minutes. Thinking everyone else had left, he was startled at Dumbledore's approach.

"Headmaster."

"I see your leg is bothering you after such a lengthy meeting, my boy. Would you like me to ask Madame Pomfrey for a Pain Potion?"

"Unnecessary," he answered curtly. He wished Albus would get to the point. The crafty old wizard knew full well that he brewed his own Pain Potions and kept at least one on her person at all times.

"Yes, of course, forgive me. You have your own, don't you?" Abruptly, he changed topics. "I was surprised at Minerva's vehemence against the Dursleys. You would think as Deputy Headmistress, she would have more respect for the school rules."

Damn the man! When had he ever paid the least regard to Hogwart's rules?

"I'm sure she was merely attempting to mollycoddle Potter once more, Albus. She is one of her favored Gryffindors, after all. However, Miss Potter must learn that the rules apply equally to her."

"I'm glad you agree with me, Severus. Speaking of Rose, how has she progressed with the Patronus Charm?"

He inwardly cringed. He had simply been too busy to schedule a lesson. "I regret, Headmaster, that I have not had sufficient time to meet with her."

"I'm sure you can put her free time this Saturday to good use, then." The comment had been made lightly, but it held the weight of a command.

"An excellent idea. I shall send a note to Miss Potter requesting she meet with me on Saturday as soon as her classmates have left."

"I'm glad to hear it, Severus. Will we see you at supper, or should I instruct a house elf to send you a tray?"

"Actually, Albus, I believe I shall take my supper outside this evening. The weather is mild for October and I could do with the fresh air."

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled with mirth. "Still feeding your dog, Severus? Hagrid has not mentioned a new pet."

He looked guiltily at the ground. "Grim appears to be comfortable with his situation, Headmaster. Although I continue to feed him, I have not attempted to bring him to Hagrid's in some time."

The older wizard smiled indulgently. "So long as he does not harm a student, I'm sure he can continue to keep his freedom. However, I hope he has someplace warm to stay. This fair weather cannot last for long."

"I think he must. However, I will endeavor to make sure before the first freeze. Now, if you'll excuse me, I should get to the kitchens before everything is gone."

Laboriously, he walked out of the staffroom, refusing to show any more signs of weakness in front of the powerful wizard.

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><p>Standing near the lake in the dying light of day, Severus was soon greeted warmly by a huge black dog, which put his paws on the Potions Master's chest and eagerly licked his face.<p>

"Stupid mutt," he fondly complained with a smile on his face. For a few minutes, he rubbed the dog's ears and watched its tail wag in larger and larger arcs. Finally, he pushed the animal to the ground and rummaged through his burlap sack.

"You get a ham bone tonight, Grim, because I did not see you by the lake this morning for our daily walk. I, on the other hand, completed my exercises for the day, and have nicked a few Cornish pasties from the kitchens."

The dog barked, as if in complaint, but Severus just laughed and threw him the bone. It was a large, meaty bone, and the dog soon settled himself on the grass to gnaw away at his dinner. Severus sat a few feet away on a bench he had conjured.

As he slowly ate a pasty, he spoke about his day to the dog. He found he could be much more forthright with the stray than he could ever be with his fellow professors, and it was a relief to talk to someone about his problems, even if it was a someone who couldn't answer back.

"I have to teach Rose the Patronus Charm on Saturday. Dumbledore's not going to allow her into Hogsmeade. A suitable precaution with Sirius Black on the loose, I suppose, but she deserves the trip as much as any other student."

Grim stopped eating, cocking his head to one side like he always did when Severus launched into one of his soliloquies. The Head of Slytherin House always got the feeling that the dog somehow understood his speech, but he dismissed it as pure fantasy.

"She's still not coping well, but how can she when she doesn't remember what happened? Filius warned me that it might be difficult for her to produce a Patronus considering her emotional state. I'm glad he said it when the wolf was around. That idiot suggested we use a boggart to simulate a dementor in order for Rose to practice under stress. Merlin's beard, but she doesn't need any more stress right now. She can face her fears once she's formed a Patronus."

The mutt whined, whether in agreement or dissent, it was impossible to say. Sighing, Severus tossed his second pasty in the dog's general direction.

"My thoughts precisely. Lupin, although a surprisingly competent Defense instructor, does not always think of the consequences of his actions. I refuse to have Rose in the Hospital Wing again, especially on the night of the Halloween Feast."

Lapsing into silence, he ate an apple before taking out a flask of pumpkin juice and drinking deeply. "I worry about Black. Some are beginning to say he has fled the country, but I know better than to let my guard down. Potter never did have good judgment when it came to his friends, and Black was one of the worst. He tried to get me killed in my sixth year, which is why I have such a difficult time letting go of the past and being civil to Lupin. Culpable or not, he is still a dangerous creature when the moon is full."

The dog's ensuing whine was plaintive enough that Severus sat on the ground next to him and patted him reassuringly.

"I imagine if Black could see me now, he'd be laughing his arse off. I still have trouble casting certain spells when I am fatigued."

The black dog buried its face with its paws, although Severus was too lost in the past to notice. After a while, the cold began to seep into his robes, and he stiffly stood.

"I'll see you in the morning, Grim. I see now why they say dogs are man's best friend. I wish I'd been allowed a dog as a child, but Da could barely put food on the table for the three of us, much less a pet. Dumbledore reminded me that it will be cold soon. If you are well behaved, perhaps I could sneak you into the dungeons when the weather turns. I bet you'd like a night in front of a warm fire, wouldn't you, boy?"

Grim barked enthusiastically, which Severus took for agreement. It was settled then, when the weather turned, he would bring Grim inside at night. If the insufferable students were allowed their pets, he didn't see why he couldn't be allowed his too.


	14. Strange Situations

Author's Notes - I Hope you enjoy Rose's morning spent with Professor Snape. While her attitude has changed with his, she's still a teenage girl upset about missing out on the Hogsmeade trip. (And, who could blame her?) I tried to imitate Hagrid's accent and be true to the way JK Rowling has written him. However, if I've made a mess of it, please let me know and I'll be glad to spell everything correctly and let you imagine his speech pattern. Speaking of JK Rowling, as I'm sure you're aware, she owns all the characters, not me!

Thanks to LilyLunaSnapeRiddle and KyokoNyx for reviewing. I appreciate the feedback very much!

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><p>Severus stood to the side in the Entrance Hall as students dashed out of the castle for the trip to Hogsmeade. He watched with interest as Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley guiltily bid goodbye to Rose. He was glad to see their remorse. If Lily had not been allowed to visit Hogsmeade, he certainly wouldn't have gone without her. Perhaps Miss Potter's friends were not as stalwart as he had supposed.<p>

Rose herself appeared morose, and was not that happy to see him from across the hall. Yesterday at the end of Potions, she had stayed behind to ask if he could grant her permission for the excursion. He, of course, had been forced to decline. She had run from the room too quickly for him to give her any sort of explanation, a look of devastation on her face. The next few minutes were bound to be uncomfortable.

"Miss Potter, you will accompany me to my office."

Her answer was one of pure defiance. "You may not trust me enough to let me go to Hogsmeade, but that doesn't mean you can tell me where to go. It's Saturday, Snape, and I'm going to the lake.

The determined set to her jaw was so very much James Potter's that he sneered from habit alone. How dare she address him in that manner! And then, he saw the tears in her eyes and the way her hands shook so much that she was forced to ball them into fists. He deliberately paused to take a deep breath.

"That's Professor Snape to you, Miss Potter. Five points from Gryffindor for your woeful lack of respect. And, you certainly will accompany me."

He halfway expected her to explode; her lower lip trembled instead. Before she could lose control completely, he added, "However, perhaps a compromise can be reached. It is indeed a fine day. If you prefer, you may choose to accompany me to the lake rather than my office."

The tears that had threatened to spill disappeared with a backhanded swipe to her face. "I suppose."

Not the most promising of answers, but he couldn't blame her entirely. She was a thirteen year old girl who should be buying sugar quills at Honeydukes with her friends, not being forced to spend the day with one of her stodgy old professors.

Walking silently beside him, she constantly chewed on her lower lip. He was about to reprimand her when he noticed that she glanced repeatedly at his cane. So, she was still concerned about his welfare. Well, that was one concern easily put to rest.

"Miss Potter, I am quite capable of walking to the lake and back. You needn't fear a repeat of what happened this summer. I assure you that I have made significant progress since then."

Her reply was awkward, but heartfelt. "I'm glad, Professor. When you took me away from Aunt Petunia, I was scared you would die and leave me alone in that dusty old house. And, then when I was at the Burrow, I was scared you would die alone and no one would find you."

His mouth curved into a sardonic smile. "Yes, well, the cleanliness of Spinner's End notwithstanding, I can assure you that I do not plan on dying anytime soon."

She flushed with embarrassment, and he grinned warmly. "I consider Hogwarts my home, Miss Potter. I reside at Spinner's End only during the summer months and only when I have a tricky bit of brewing to do. The house is both dusty and old. I was hoping you would not mind staying at Hogwarts over the Christmas Break."

"I always stay at Hogwarts over Christmas break."

Her answer had been given in such a straightforward manner that he abruptly realized she considered Hogwarts her home too. He well remembered spending Christmas at the school when he had been a student. It had been a welcome respite from the tension and violence the holidays had invariably produced at home. He would have to owl Molly Weasley to inquire about appropriate gifts for a girl of Rose's age. He somehow doubted that Petunia provided much beyond the necessities for the child.

"Splendid. That will save us both much time cleaning my dusty old house."

They walked in companionable silence the rest of the way to the lake. Severus was glad that he had been making the same walk for six weeks now. He wouldn't have been able to manage it otherwise. He allowed Miss Potter to skip stones on the placid water while he thoroughly scanned the area. It was early enough that most first and second years were still at breakfast, but a few were out and about playing tag with their friends or sitting on House blankets no doubt gossiping about their week. He would not have their lesson in such an open area.

"Miss Potter, I was wondering if you might accompany me to Professor Hagrid's?"

"We can go see Hagrid?"

"Professor Hagrid, and yes, I believe our session would be much better suited for the area near his cabin."

It was the wrong thing to have said. Her anxiety returned with a vengeance. "Session? What session? You're going to give me detention on top of babysitting me? How pathetic do you think I am?"

"Miss P-Potter! C-Consider y-y-your next w-words c-c-carefully."

Damn, would he never be rid of the infernal stutter? Bad-tempered, he was stunned when she slipped her hand into his.

"I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't mean to upset you."

_Apology accepted_, he wrote in the air. _Nor I, you_, he added after a moment's pause.

As forgiving and as fickle as only a child could be, she smiled sunnily as she insistently tugged him towards the half-giant's abode. Knocking briskly on the door, she let go of his hand to give Hagrid a warm hug. The two were obviously fast friends.

"Do you have any tea, Professor Hagrid? Professor Snape needs some."

It was a testament to the big man's gentle soul that he didn't consider the request or the sudden presence of the Potions Master anything out of the ordinary. He did, however, consider Rose's new form of address quite ridiculous.

"None o' that 'Professor' hogwash, Rose. Yeh an' I been friends far too long fer any o' that nonsense. When yer my guest, yeh can call me Hagrid, jus' like yeh always do."

The cheeky girl had the audacity to shoot him a grin of triumph, and it was all he could do not to roll his eyes. Hagrid's tea turned out to be quite good, as opposed to the rock cakes he had given them, which were inedible. He listened attentively as Rose chattered on to her large friend about her week. She went to great lengths to pretend that she was perfectly fine, and the subject of Hogsmeade was never brought up.

After a while, Snape felt relaxed enough to join in the conversation without fear of stuttering.

"I intend to show Rose the Patronus Charm today, Hagrid. I was wondering if we could use the area behind your cabin to practice."

Rose dropped her cup in surprise, necessitating a quick _Reparo_.

"Great idea, Professor. Ever since those creatures been placed abou' the school, I've been a might edgy, I can tell yeh that."

The girl, however, put two and two together and came up with five. "That's why I couldn't go to Hogsmeade? Because you're worried about the dementors? I thought it was because you didn't trust me not to go after Sirius Black! I'm not a weakling, and I can handle the dementors just fine!"

Hagrid stared at her curiously. "Dumbledore hi'self forbid yeh to go to Hogsmeade, Rose. And, no one thinks yer weak. Dementors are 'orrible creatures, an' only the Patronus Charm can stop 'em. Professor Snape's doin' yeh a great favor by tryin' to teach yeh an advanced spell like that."

She looked at him in obvious confusion. "You are?"

"It is no favor, Miss Potter. You should have the means to defend yourself from such creatures considering the effect they have one you. However, I must warn you not to expect too much today. Hagrid is correct. The Patronus Charm is very advanced magic. It will take you some time to master it."

"Oh." Suddenly, she looked rather small. "What if I can't?"

"I have faith that you will," he answered briskly, not allowing her fears to run away with her.

She seemed at least somewhat reassured by his statement, and they soon took their leave from the cabin, thanking Hagrid profusely for the tea and cakes. Severus had been forced to cough into the sleeve of his robe when he had caught Rose's eye. They had both fed their cakes to Fang, and her mischievous expression had threatened to send him into paroxysms of laughter. Lily had often had just the same glint in her eye when they had tricked Petunia with magic as children.

Walking to the back of Hagrid's cabin, Snape was pleased that not a person was in sight. The clearing abutted the Forbidden Forest, and only the most daring student ventured there. They could practice in peace, away from prying eyes.

Just as he was about to begin his lecture about the different manifestations of the spell, Rose asked about something else entirely.

"Why didn't you tell me it was Professor Dumbledore who said I couldn't go? I was angry at you yesterday, you know."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing they could have stayed on the topic of the Patronus Charm.

"I was well aware of your thoughts on the matter, Miss Potter. I simply deemed it wiser that you focus your hostility on me rather than the Headmaster."

After a second's pause, she gazed challengingly into his eyes. "Why? Do you want me angry with you?"

Briefly, he wondered how McGonagal would answer. Of course he didn't want her angry with him. Neither did he want her to be defensive around Albus. The powerful wizard was too intelligent not to be curious if Rose suddenly started treating him differently.

"At the present, I serve as your guardian, Miss Potter. That places me in the position to make many decisions on your behalf, of which choosing not to inform you of the Headmaster's decree is one of them. If you wish for me to continue in this role, then I urge you not to question Albus Dumbledore's decision. It has been made, and it is far too late to change his mind. Once Sirius Black has been caught, perhaps permission will be granted."

She visibly struggled with his advice, but ultimately, she accepted it. He gave her a moment to compose herself before moving to the lesson.

"I am told that Professor Lupin used the Patronus Charm to repel the dementors on the train."

"That must have been after I passed out, Professor."

Not liking the reminder of finding her in the Hospital Ward instead of the Start of Term Feast, he nodded stiffly before continuing. "It is an extremely useful spell, Miss Potter. Depending upon the strength of the thought used to cast it, the charm can manifest itself as light or as a fully formed, corporeal Patronus. Both can repel dementors, but the corporeal form is much more powerful and can also be used as a means of communication."

"Corporeal? You mean, the Patronus Charm forms a body?"

"Five points to Gryffindor, Miss Potter. A fully formed Patronus does, indeed, take the shape of an animal, although that animal is made of light and the strength of the positive thought a wizard uses to conjure it rather than flesh and bone."

Rose suddenly looked unsure of herself. "I need a positive thought? Like the happy thoughts Wendy used to fly in Peter Pan?"

His lips twitched. Although a Muggle fairytale, it was the perfect analogy. "Exactly like Wendy, although there is no magic fairy dust to help you, I'm afraid. Your Patronus will be imbued with the positive force of your happy thought. Its strength will come for that memory, and that positive force is what will drive away the dementors."

She bit her lip. "So, it has to be a memory? You can't just, I don't know, make something up?"

Filius was right; she was going to have difficulty forming a Patronus. "It is exceedingly difficult to base such positive energy on a fantasy. For now, it would be much better if you were to find an actual memory to use."

"Oh." Her nose scrunched up as she lapsed into deep thought. "I've got one, I think, Professor."

He was hesitant to ask what it was. Instead, he showed her the wand movements and the incantation. "_Expecto Patronum!_"

A silver doe burst forth from his wand to run gracefully around the clearing before fading into nothingness.

"Wow! That's a cool deer, Professor!"

"Thank you. It is, in fact, a doe."

She looked a bit taken aback by the thought of her stern Potions Professor producing a female Patronus, but she didn't ask a question, and he didn't offer an explanation. Perhaps he could get through the lesson without having to explain the significance of the form his particular Patronus took.

"What do you think mine will be?"

"We won't know until you conjure it, so I suggest you try now."

She stood in the middle of the clearing, a look of intense concentration of her face.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" The movement and incantation had been perfect. Incredibly, a dim light began to emerge from the tip of her wand. After a few seconds, however, it faded into nothingness.

"An admirable effort, Miss Potter. I am impressed."

Bent over, her hands resting on her knees as she tried to catch her breath, Rose did not appear to be content with his effusive praise.

"It wasn't good enough. I need to find a happier memory."

In the face of such determination, he allowed her to try again. And again, and again, and again. Unfortunately, she did not improve with practice. He did not realized how long she had been making the attempt until she swayed alarmingly on her feet.

He managed to steady her before she fell over. Breaking off a large chunk of the chocolate Lupin had insisted he take with him, Severus handed it to her.

"Eat it, and then we'll go back to the castle. It will be time for lunch soon. You made decent progress today."

Taking a bite out of the candy, she immediately began to protest. "Just once more, Professor! I'm sure I can get it this time!"

Gently, he grasped her shoulders, hoping she would listen and simply accept what he said for a change. "Rose, you are exhausted, and one more time will not help matters. I don't want to see you in the Hospital Wing again. Your technique is perfect. I assure you that you will be able to cast a Patronus as soon as you can think of a strong enough positive memory."

Overwrought, she began to sob. "I don't have any memories that are happy enough, Professor Snape! I tried to think about riding my broom for the first time, but I remembered how nasty Draco had been trying to steal Neville's Rememberall. I tried to think about Gryffindor winning the Quidditch Cup, but you're right, it's too hard to concentrate on a fantasy. I even tried to think of you being my guardian, but I know that's only temporary, and I'll have to go back to the Dursley's sometime."

The fact that she had considered him as one of her happiest memories humbled him even as he despaired of the fact that her positive memories were so few and far between.

"What about your friends, Miss Potter? Surely they make you happy."

"I tried, but Ron and Hermione have nearly been killed because of me. I even tried to remember my parents like I saw them in the Mirror of Erised, but I kept hearing Mum's voice as she begged Voldemort to spare me."

Her tears started anew, and he patted her back as she cried, at a loss to offer her any additional comfort. Finally, she stopped weeping against his robes, and he handed her a handkerchief without speaking.

"Sorry," she began, but he immediately interrupted.

"There is nothing for which to apologize, Rose. We will find a strong enough memory for you; I promise. However, right now, you need to eat and spend some time with your friends. Ginerva Weasley is still at Hogwarts, is she not? Perhaps you could seek her out and do whatever it is young girls in their spare time are wont to do."

She smiled at his suggestion just as he had intended. "Colin Creevey's been following Ginny around for a week now, Professor. I'd rather stay out of the way of his camera, if that's alright with you."

"Indeed. Well, if you insist on trailing after me like a puppy dog, I do have to deliver a potion to Professor Lupin this afternoon. Perhaps he would be willing to share some more stories about your parents with you."

"That'd be great, Profess . . . ." Her eyes widened in abject terror. Spinning around, Snape saw a huge black blur speeding straight towards her.

The blur slowed significantly as it approached, and he recognized the loping gait of Grim. The mutt greeted Rose so exuberantly that she was almost knocked over, but that didn't account for her reaction. Her eyes were still huge with shock, and she was shaking violently.

"It's a Grim! Professor Trelawny warned me that I would see it, and now I have." Her face was ashen as she looked up at him. "Do you think it hurts to die?"

The dog began to whine at her reaction, backing away until there were several feet between them. Severus guessed he could sense Rose's upset.

Taking her hand, he stepped forward to pet the dog, speaking reassuringly to Rose the entire time. "If this were a real Grim, Miss Potter, I would be dead several times over. Though, I certainly acknowledge the similar appearance. Grim is a stray that I've adopted, or he's adopted me. To be honest, I'm not quite sure which is the case. I promise he doesn't bite. And, if you pet him behind the ears, he likes it very much. You can tell by how quickly his tail wags."

Hesitantly, she approached the huge dog and began to pat him on the head. She was rewarded by excited thunking of the beast's tail. Soon, she was completely at ease with the animal, to the point where she allowed him to lick her cheek.

"I knew Trelawny was a fraud."

For once Snape didn't correct her about appropriate address for a Hogwarts' professor. Nor could he bring himself to correct her assumption about the woman who had inadvertently alerted the Dark Lord to her existence. He merely heaped more attention upon Grim.

After a while, her stomach gave a growl that even the dog noticed, and Snape declared their outing over.

"Can't we bring him with us, Professor?"

He considered it, but Grim seemed to like his vagabond existence, and the temperature that night was supposed to be mild.

"Another time, Miss Potter. We wouldn't want him gobbling up the Halloween Feast tonight."

"I almost forgot! At least I don't have to go to Sir Nicholas' Deathday Feast this year."

Snape looked at her, askance. "You do manage to get yourself into the oddest situations, Miss Potter. I hope you find food you can actually eat more to your taste this year."

She chuckled, her earlier melancholy banished. "I honestly don't go out looking for strange situations, Professor. They just seem to find me."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he muttered, but she was so busy waving goodbye to Grim that she didn't hear him.


	15. From Bad to Worse

Author's Notes - Thanks to FleurSuoh for the kind review, and thanks to everyone who has put this story on alert so they won't miss an update. I hope you enjoy the chapter! Comments are always appreciated.

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><p>Saturday afternoon, Snape reluctantly left Rose in the care of Remus Lupin. The Wolfsbane Potion had to be taken over several days, and he needed to ensure that the rest of the brew did not spoil. As he walked out of the wolf's office (careful to leave the door open) he could hear the girl's laughter as she listened to one of the more benign pranks the Marauder's had pulled. She really didn't need him at all.<p>

Bent over his cauldron, he lost track of time. Only the alarm on his enchanted clock reminded him of the Halloween Feast. Hastily, he cleaned his workspace before donning clean robes and heading to the Great Hall. Once there, he nodded somewhat congenially to his fellow teachers, and then took a seat between Minerva and Filius.

The house elves had truly outdone themselves. The food was magnificent, and he found himself taking two helpings of the garlic mashed potatoes along with his roast. Glancing at the students' tables, he was relieved to see Rose's plate filled to the brim. She seemed to be in high spirits, chatting away with the Granger girl as Ronald Weasley stuffed his mouth full of pumpkin casserole.

"Did Miss Potter manage to produce a Patronus, Severus?"

He abandoned his perusal of the House tables to answer Professor Flitwick. "It was as you feared, Filius. She is having difficulty finding a suitable memory."

"But, surely Miss Potter has one good memory she can rely upon," McGonagall stated with a frown.

All the guilt and anger Snape had been harboring about Rose's upbringing finally spilled out in a quiet, scathing reply.

"And, which memory would that be, Minvera? The thought of growing up in a cupboard under the Dursley's stairs? The fact that until she was eleven, she believed her parents to be ne'er-do-wells who managed to get themselves killed in a car accident? The summer her uncle locked her in her room and fed her a tin of soup a day? Her shunning last year when many were convinced she was the Heir of Slytherin? Perhaps the guilt of getting her friends almost killed in that ridiculous test of skill the Headmaster forced us to create to guard the Philosopher's Stone. Tell me, Minerva, which happy memory would you pick from those?"

The frown lines on the sturdy witch's face deepened to form a scowl as he continued his diatribe. She could not find it in herself to answer. Flitwick made the attempt, although his voice was even more high-pitched than usual.

"What about Quidditch, Severus? Miss Potter is a gifted seeker."

"She attempted to imagine Gryffindor winning the Quidditch Cup. However, she was unable to channel enough positive energy to form a Patronus from such a fantasy. Next time, I will suggest that she focus on an actual game instead."

Minerva finally found her voice. "Or, perhaps you need merely wait until Gryffindor wins the Cup."

The Hufflepuff Head of House chuckled at his colleague's optimism, and Severus soon found himself sandwiched between a good-natured squabble over the House Quidditch teams. He couldn't force enough cheer to participate. While the other two might be able to gloss over Rose's abysmal childhood, he could not. Suddenly, the potatoes tasted like wet cement, and he lost his appetite. Not even the treacle tart could tempt it back.

As the resident Hogwarts' ghosts (excluding, of course, Professor Binns) entertained the crowd, he thought of what his charge had said during her lesson that morning. He couldn't make her feel less guilty about endangering her friends, nor could he erase all examples of Draco's arrogance. There was a chance, however, that he could make his custody of her permanent. While he had no earthly idea why she would consider him to be a suitable guardian, perhaps the knowledge that she need never return to the Dursleys would be a forceful memory with which to conjure a Patronus. However, he would have to research blood wards before taking such a step.

Finally, the Feast ended. He stood to escort his Slytherins to their Common Room. Normally, he would not bother, but Hogsmeade weekends invariably resulted in nighttime duels. Moreover, with the amount of sugar the children had no doubt consumed at the feast, he knew tempers would run high. Best to nip everything in the bud before he was dragged from his sleep at 3:00 AM to discipline a sixth year who had decided he deserved a fifth year's trinket.

Standing in the middle of the imposing stone Common Room, he had just begun a very stern lecture when a loud gong sounded throughout the dungeons. Reacting immediately, he had the students line up with the admonition that they be prepared to follow instructions and move before he limped into the hallway.

There was no immediate threat to be seen, so he walked towards the stairs. Professor Vector met him halfway.

"Sirius Black attempted to enter the Gryffindor Common Room, Severus. He slashed the Fat Lady's portrait, but wasn't able to gain entry. The Headmaster has ordered the students into the Great Hall for their protection. We are to report to the Entrance Hall immediately."

With a curt nod, he walked back to his Slytherins as quickly as his leg would allow. Once there, he entrusted the task of seeing the students to the Great Hall to the prefects, who thankfully understood the gravity of the situation. The students filed out with only minor pushing and shoving, and he didn't linger. Taking a private staircase that bypassed several passages, he was able to reach the Entrance Hall ahead of them.

He was the last of the staff to arrive, and Dumbledore lost no time with pleasantries. "Severus, I'm sure you'll understand that we must search every inch of the castle to confirm Black has escaped. You and Remus will search the dungeons. Send a message should you find anything out of the ordinary."

He couldn't help the glare; it was instinctive. At that moment, he didn't trust Lupin at all. The wizard was only days away from transforming. Worse, he was the only person in the castle who might have the motivation to assist Sirius Black. Though, the thought died swiftly. If he were, indeed, the traitor, then he could have taken Rose this afternoon when the two were alone in his office. She wouldn't have been missed until the start of the feast.

Remus handled his hostility with long-suffering patience, which almost set Snape off on another internal rant, but he managed to calm himself enough to spin about and head back downstairs. Without acknowledging his temporary partner at all, he began a sweep of his office.

"Nothing."

Remus' lip twitched, and Snape itched to hex him.

"I can't imagine Sirius hiding in your office, Severus."

It was too much. The Potions Master whipped around, his entire body trembling with fury. "How would he know this was my office? Unless, of course, you told him I teach here."

The grin immediately slipped off the thin wizard's face. "I haven't spoken to Sirius since James and Lily went into hiding, Severus. I assure you that I have no desire to help him. I would never wish Rose harm."

"Then stop acting like this is a game and start assisting with the search." Elated that he had not stuttered once, he added forbiddingly, "And, if I ever do find out that you've been helping that psychopath, I will slip belladonna in your Wolfsbane Potion and claim it was an accident."

He was pleased to see the momentary fear on his old tormentor's face. "I can only give you my word, Severus. I am not helping Sirius."

They searched in silence after that, but aside from a scurrying rat, they saw nothing of note in the dungeons. Three hours later, when they had examined every dark nook and cranny, Remus made his way to the Astronomy Tower to help scan the grounds while Severus reported to the Headmaster in the Great Hall.

At three in the morning, the students were all resting more or less peacefully. Approaching Dumbledore, Snape saw that Rose was uncommonly tense in her sleep, but he couldn't blame her. No doubt she was terrified, and her subconscious must have invented all sorts of horrors as a result.

"Anything, Severus?"

"Nothing more interesting than a stray rodent, Headmaster. I'll tell Filch to send Mrs. Norris to the dungeons more often."

"I didn't really expect him to linger, but thank you, my boy."

Dumbledore had spoken in a tone of dismissal, but Snape couldn't let the discussion drop. "Do you have theories as to how Black managed to enter the castle?"

"Several, all the more impossible than the last."

This time, he didn't allow the Potions Master to question him, excusing himself to speak to Madame Hooch, who had walked into his line of vision. Alone among the sleeping Gryffindors, Severus watched Rose for several minutes. It was only then that he realized she feigned sleep. Painstakingly stretching out his impaired leg, he knelt beside her.

"Would you like me to give you a Sleeping Potion, Rose? Sirius Black will not make another attempt tonight."

"He's not supposed to be able to get in the castle at all," she whispered back, obviously distressed.

He couldn't fault her logic. "I will not allow him to harm you, Rose. You have my promise. Now, please get some sleep. You need to be well-rested to finish your Potions essay tomorrow."

She visibly struggled with her fear before putting on a brave face. "You rescued me once before, Professor. I guess I should trust you to keep me safe now."

For the briefest moment, he felt like he had been punched in the gut. She remembered. But then, he realized that she was speaking of his actions at the Dursleys.

"Someone should have rescued you from your relatives far sooner than that, Miss Potter. However, I assure you that I will endeavor to earn the trust you have placed in me. You need not fear Sirius Black."

Perhaps he promised too much for Rose looked skeptical. She did trust him enough to allow him to give her a Sleeping Potion, however. Within minutes, her breathing evened and her muscles relaxed. Moving away from the students, he sat at the Head Table for the rest of the night, guarding her sleep.

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><p>The Sunday afternoon staff meeting threatened to erupt into chaos as the Headmaster suggested that Black had somehow walked into the castle from Hogsmeade using Polyjuice Potion to impersonate a student. Severus thought it unlikely, keeping quiet as the usually reserved Pomona Sprout demanded that her students be protected from the madman.<p>

Minerva's cheeks, however, were inflamed with rage. She acerbically pointed out that if anyone should be making such demands, it should be herself as the Head of Gryffindor House. She then went on to insist that students be made to travel in pairs for the next Hogsmeade trip.

Frankly, Severus thought the next Hogsmeade trip should be cancelled, but Dumbledore did nothing of the sort.

"I believe the security we have in place was adequate last night. Sirius Black, although he managed to gain entrance to the castle, was unable to enter the Gryffindor Common Room. No student was harmed, and no one will be if we all remain vigilant. The Deputy Headmistress' suggestion has merit. For the next Hogsmeade visit, no student shall be allowed to roam about the village alone. I leave it to you, Minerva, to work out the details."

The meeting adjourned shortly afterwards. Uncommonly, everyone radiated discontent, but Dumbledore pointedly ignored the grumbling. Having completed grading assignments, Severus checked the restricted section of the library for a book that contained any reference to blood wards, but not one was listed. Disappointed but not surprised, he vowed to visit his personal library at Spinner's End as soon as he had the chance.

Worn out from guarding Rose the night before, he retreated to his rooms where he fell asleep in his chair almost immediately. He didn't wake up until his morning alarm blared in his ear. Guiltily, he realized he hadn't fed Grim at all the day before, so he took extra food with him on his morning walk. The dog, however, was nowhere to be seen. Cursing his forgetfulness, he trudged back to the castle, a sour expression on his face.

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><p>The week went from bad to worse in Severus' opinion. He blamed the horrible weather and not Grim's disappearance. If he had only fed the mutt on Sunday, he was sure he could have coaxed it into the castle. Instead, he searched in vain for three soggy, blustery mornings and three rainy, cold nights, a meaty ham bone clutched in his hand. Finally, he was forced to give up.<p>

In addition to his Potions classes, he taught three days of Defense because Lupin wasn't strong enough to return to teaching so soon after transforming into a (supposedly tame) werewolf. He thought the hinkypunk was somewhat tame to show third years, but it was on the syllabus, and the students were easily impressed by a creature that they would likely never encounter unless they were particularly attracted to camping in bogs, which meant that only Luna Lovegood need worry.

He had been forced to give Ronald Weasley detention for his impertinence. Really, he was beginning to wonder if someone hadn't transfigured a troll into the semblance of a Weasley. Even Charlie hadn't been so disrespectful. He briefly considered owling Molly, but he definitely owed the staunch matriarch for everything she had done for Rose over the summer. He would overlook Ronald's disrespect, although he did enjoy giving him the task of cleaning the bedpan's in the Hospital Wing without magic. That had been truly inspired.

The weather the morning of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin was so poor that he advocated cancelling the game. He should have known better. Madame Hooch shot him a look of disdain, and Minerva sniffed condescendingly in his direction as she vetoed the idea. Grumpily, he made his way to the stands to join the other members of staff who were fanatical enough to sit in the cold, hard, driving rain. He had nothing against Quidditch, per se, but it was a game played by wizards, not Muggles. Couldn't someone figure out a way to charm the stadium so it was always sunny and dry?

The rain came down at an angle in heavy sheets, and Severus could barely see the players flying around the pitch. He listened to the commentary, making a note to find a way to give Lee Jordan a detention sometime in the next week. He couldn't believe that Minerva allowed such bias against the Slytherins. Yes, the team was cutthroat, but if you didn't play to win, there really wasn't much point to playing.

As he strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of Rose or Draco, he abruptly felt chilled to the bone. He thought he could hear the voice of his father in an all too familiar enraged, drunken stupor. It was quickly replaced by the memory of him rushing to Godric's Hollow only to find out that he had been much too late. James Potter's dead eyes stared up at him in accusation as he ran up the mostly intact stairs to find Lily's lifeless body on the floor next to a wailing child's cot. Her beautiful green eyes had already lost their luster, and it was his fault . . . .

The cold intensified even as he pinpointed the source of his grief. At least a hundred dementors had amassed close to the pitch. Alarmed, he stood up to search frantically for Rose, but it was already too late. As if he were in the middle of a horror movie, he watched helplessly while she slumped over her broom and began to plummet towards the ground, a good fifty foot drop.

He was too far away to do save her. But, just as he thought all hope was lost, he saw an incredible sight. Draco streaked towards her, somehow managing to grab hold of her limp body as her broom continued its free-fall. Her unbalanced weight ultimately proved to be too much, however, and they both plummeted from his broom some twenty feet to hit the soupy ground. Stumbling out of the stands, he pushed his way past the horrified onlookers to run to them both.

Dumbledore, standing in the middle of the pitch with an expression Severus had only seen on his face one other time, waved his wand to banish the dementors back to perimeter of the grounds. His fury was a cold one, and his eyes flashed an icy rage as he acknowledged Snape with a nod. They walked together towards the injured children, ignoring the stunned players of both teams gathered in a huddle off to the side.

McGonagall and Madame Hooch were already assessing injuries. Rose was unconscious, her right leg at an impossible angle and her right cheek bleeding freely. Draco was regaining consciousness, groaning with genuine pain. He had made the mistake of trying to break his fall with his hands, and bone protruded from both wrists.

While Dumbledore conjured a stretcher for Rose, he focused on the astonishingly brave Mr. Malfoy. "Fifty points to Slytherin, Draco, for the best example of chivalry I have ever seen. Your mother will be proud."

Rather than preening at the praise, the Slytherin seeker glanced worriedly over to Rose. "Will she be alright, Professor? I think I fell on top of her."

He evaded the question. Including the boggart, this was the third time Rose had faced the dementors. There was no telling how so many of them had affected her. "I assure you that Madame Pomfrey will be able to heal her physical injuries, just as she will heal yours."

"I think I'm going to be sick."

The ashen boy immediately vomited all over the sodden ground. Afterwards, his teeth chattered with cold, and Snape realized that he was going into shock. With no regard for the child's pride, he scooped him off the ground, staggering under his weight. Without a word, Hagrid suddenly appeared to take Draco out of his arms. The half-giant carried him to the Hospital Wing as easily and gently as Severus might have carried a bouquet of flowers. Draco was too miserable to make any disparaging comments about his least favorite professor, and Hagrid left as soon as he had deposited his burden on an empty bed, explaining that he was going to make sure the two Quidditch teams took care of themselves before running to the infirmary to demand to see their friends.

As Poppy ran diagnostic spells over Rose, Severus cast a Hot Air Charm on Draco, instantly drying his clothes and warming his chilled body. He did a quick check to make sure the broken wrists were the worst of the boy's injuries. There was no internal bleeding, and his scraped knees could be cleaned once the bones in his wrist were manipulated back into place and the Skele-Gro administered.

Gazing straight into the boy's eyes, he warned, "This is going to hurt," as he took the right wrist and pushed the bone into the correct position.

Thankfully, the child had no tolerance for pain and fainted mid-scream. Severus quickly popped the other bone back into place, magically binding the wrists so Draco couldn't accidently move them out of alignment. Casting _Rennervate_, he propped up his patient enough so he could swallow the small amount of Skele-Gro needed to knit the pieces of bone together.

It was testament to the child's distress that he didn't bother to ask what he was drinking. In fact, Draco seemed to be suffering the lingering effects of a great emotional shock, and Snape wondered what he had experienced as the dementors had approached. Once the boy had taken the potion, he leaned back and closed his eyes. He was sleeping before Severus could give him any chocolate, but his Head of House didn't wish to wake him just to send him to sleep once more. Knitting the bone together would be a slow, painful process, and it was advantageous that Draco was no longer aware of the pain.

He allowed himself a tiny respite as he watched for signs of distress from Draco. The child's injuries had been bad enough, but they could have been much worse. He almost allowed himself to believe they had gotten off lightly until he heard Poppy's urgent plea.

"Severus, I need you over here."

Turning, the blood drained from his face. Rose was far too still. In fact, he couldn't detect the rise and fall of her chest at all.


	16. The Potion of Last Resort

Author's Notes - Yes, I know; cliffhangers are evil. I'll warn you now that this chapter also ends on a cliffhanger, although it's of a far different type than the previous one. And, Snape's more than a little stressed here, so forgive him for the brief bout of profanity. Thanks to everyone who's put this story on alert and/or favorite. It's nice to know that people want to read it. And, a special thank you to Lily Luna Snape Riddle and FleurSuoh for reviewing the last chapter. Hope you enjoy!

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><p><em>He allowed himself a tiny respite as he watched Draco for signs of distress. The child's injuries had been bad enough, but they could have been much worse. He almost allowed himself to believe they had gotten off lightly until he heard Poppy's urgent request.<em>

"_Severus, I need you over here."_

_Turning, the blood drained from his face. Rose was far too still. In fact, he couldn't detect the rise and fall of her chest at all._

"Hurry! Her heart's stopped beating!"

Severus crossed the space separating him from Rose faster than he thought possible. Madame Pomfrey motioned for him to help the Headmaster hold Rose down, and in that terrible instant, he knew exactly what she was about to do. Gripping her left arm with all his might, he watched Poppy pour the snapping, crackling red potion into the girl's mouth.

The poor child jerked as if she had been electrocuted before her entire body convulsed uncontrollably. His grip tightened even as he had to look away. He couldn't bear to see the rictus of agony visible on her face. For what seemed like hours, her muscles jerked and twitched, although he knew such a reaction lasted a mere forty-five seconds to a minute.

As he kept her from falling off the bed and injuring herself further, he reviewed the potion she had been given in his mind in a futile attempt to distract himself from her writhing. The Potion of Last Resort had been invented by none other than the infamous wizard, Victor Frankenstein. The man had been obsessed with the Dark Arts, specifically the attempt to create life out of lifelessness. In the end, he had been unsuccessful, Mary Shelley notwithstanding. However, he had left thousands of pages of notes, all of which had been dutifully investigated by the aurors of the time.

In a manner that would be considered animal cruelty by today's standards, they tested many of the experimental potions on pigs, discovering by accident that the administration of this particular potion on the dying had a curious effect. In slightly less than fifty percent of the cases, it would restart a stopped heart. Testing on humans had swiftly followed, and the survival rate mirrored that of the pigs.

The Potion of Last Resort, as it had come to be known, quickly became a favorite of the rich and privileged due to the costly nature of ingredients necessary to brew it. It was, however, swiftly banned to all but certified Healers when the effect it had on the healthy was revealed. Frankly, he was surprised that Madame Pomfrey kept a vial in her stores, but he supposed he should be thankful. Thankful, that is, if Rose survived.

Finally, her body went slack. Daring to look, he witnessed a halting, shuddering breath. Then another. And another. With each one her body calmed a little more. Poppy put her hand to the girl's neck, and the frown she'd been wearing slowly disappeared.

"Merlin, that was close," she muttered as she briskly began to treat the girl's visible injuries. Rose was still unconscious, although he was not surprised.

"You can let go now, my boy."

Startled, he looked up to see Albus standing on the opposite side of the bed, his eyes filled with remorse. Belatedly, Severus realized that he still gripped Rose's arm, and he quickly let go. He'd never been so scared or angry in his entire life.

"N-now will you g-g-get rid of the d-d-dementors, old m-man? S-s-she c-c-could have d-died!"

The Headmaster regarded him for several long seconds, a closed expression on his face. "Perhaps you understand now, Severus, why it is so important for Rose to learn the Patronus Charm. However, we will discuss our philosophical differences another time. I must inform the Ministry of this incident, and I believe you are needed to comfort the young Mr. Malfoy. I rather think he was upset by the recent spectacle."

Stiffening, Snape slowly turned around. Sure enough, Draco sat on the edge of his bed, a look of horror on his face. Why hadn't he thought to give the boy a Sleeping Potion before fixing the protruding bones in his wrists? Keeping his expression neutral, he turned around to speak again to Dumbledore, but the wizard was already making his retreat, his scarlet robes billowing behind him like a tongue of fire.

"Spectacle," he harrumphed under his breath. "He calls her heart stopping a fucking spectacle."

"Severus, really." Madame Pomfrey looked at him disapprovingly. "I know you're upset. We all are, but I'm sure the Headmaster didn't mean it like that."

Ignoring Draco for the time being, he seized the moment to demand a report of Rose's injuries.

"The leg will mend easily enough. This isn't the first Quidditch fall I've dealt with at Hogwarts. She bled quite a lot because of the cut on her cheek, although it was a minor wound, and easily healed. But . . . ."

She stopped mid-explanation, glancing worriedly at Draco. The boy was soaking up every word. Snape silently cast _Muffliato_, not trusting himself to speak the incantation correctly, and then impatiently gestured for her to continue.

She did, although her words were more than troubling. "Severus, I can't explain why her heart stopped. She hasn't been Kissed; I know, I checked to make sure her soul was still intact. But . . . there's no reason for her heart to have stopped. I fear she used her magic to will herself to die."

The news was so shocking that he knew not to bother trying to speak. Instead, he wrote his question in the air, blocking the letters with his body so Draco would remain ignorant. _Do you believe this was a conscious or unconscious decision on her part?_"

The school matron answered uneasily. "I cannot believe that Rose would consciously try to kill herself, Severus. I know the child has not had the happiest of upbringings, but she seems content enough at school. Surely, she would have no reason to take such drastic measures. Perhaps her magic was simply overwhelmed by the presence of so many dementors, and it reacted badly."

"_What? Like an allergic reaction?_" His frustration soared as she took his question literally rather than the sarcastic nature he had intended it.

"Exactly like that!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Has anyone ever told you that you would make a wonderful Healer, Severus? I'm sure that's the case. Rose must be hypersensitive to the dementors, and her magic did the only thing it could to try to protect her. If this occurs again, I can use the Anti-Allergy Potion to counteract the effects!"

He wrote in red, angry, letters. _**THIS WILL NOT OCCUR AGAIN!**_

Immediately, she sobered. "Of course it won't. Dumbledore will convince the Ministry to remove the dementors; I'm sure of it. I think it's best to let her regain consciousness naturally. If it's anything like last time, she won't wake for almost a day."

He was too upset to protest that if Dumbledore did not wish the Dementors at Hogwarts, they wouldn't be present in the first place. Instead, he accompanied Poppy to Draco's bed, where she spent the next five minutes inspecting his work. The boy, in true Slytherin fashion, only answered the questions she posed to him, no doubt saving his curiosity until they could be alone.

"You should be a Healer. I'm sure of it now."

He didn't bother to explain how he had been forced to learn the Healing Arts at a very young age in order to tend to the bruises and broken bones his father had inflicted upon his mother in his all too frequent drunken stupors. He didn't wish to incur her sympathy, nor did he desire her to linger. It was going to be difficult enough to speak to Draco without adding her to the mix.

"Coming from you, I consider that a high compliment. I will inform you the instant that Rose wakes."

His tone had been one of dismissal, and she regarded him uncertainly before stumbling over a few trite pleasantries and retreating into her office. Once she was gone, Snape took a deep breath to calm his mind, and thankfully found his voice during his short relaxation technique.

Peering intently at his anxious student, he didn't allow Draco to voice a single question. "Listen carefully, Mr. Malfoy, for I fear we have only seconds to spare. You will not tell your father of anything that has transpired in the infirmary tonight save my treatment of you. If you so much as breathe a word about Miss Potter's reaction to the dementors, I will make your life a living hell, do you understand?"

The boy's eyes grew huge. "No, Professor Snape! I mean, yes, Professor. I'm not stupid. I know how much Father dislikes Rose."

The Potions Master didn't get a chance to reply. Albus had predictably returned to the infirmary with Lucius and a frantic Narcissa in tow.

"As you can see, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, your son is recuperating nicely. I'm afraid that Quidditch is a rough sport, and it's not uncommon for players to be injured. In fact, if I remember correctly, Lucius, your nose was broken by a bludger in your final match with Hufflepuff, was it not?"

Lucius sneered at the reminder, while Narcissa wasted no time in comforting her only child. She sat beside Draco and embraced him in a fierce hug, which obviously pleased and embarrassed the boy in equal measure.

"It's quite alright, Mother. My wrist bones are growing back together with the Skele-Gro. Professor Snape did an excellent job."

"Snape?" Lucius' utterance of his former colleague's name held all the warmth of a three day old dead fish. "Ah, Severus, I almost didn't recognize you. You're soaked enough to be mistaken for a drowned rat. But, I must wonder why you were the one to tend to my son, and not Madame Pomfrey."

Like a hyena readying for an attack, Lucius' eyes then swept the room, stopping abruptly at the other figure in the bed. "Well, well, well. I see the famed Miss Potter has suffered an injury, too. Tell me, Severus, was this the reason a cripple tended to my son? Does all the staff at Hogwarts show such blatant favoritism? What if you ineptness had harmed Draco?"

He clenched his jaw rather than respond to the man's taunts. Albus, to his credit, was about to reply when Madame Pomfrey stalked out of her office to give the elder Mr. Malfoy a piece of her mind. Severus later wished he had thought to cast _Langlock_ on her before she could open her mouth.

"Now you listen here, Lucius Malfoy. I do not show favoritism towards my patients, as you well know. Miss Potter's injuries were life-threatening. In fact, if she hadn't responded to the Potion of Last Resort, we would have lost her tonight! So, don't start throwing baseless accusations around here!"

Narcissa paled, her eyes instinctively seeking out the girl lying unconscious ten feet away. Lucius stared at Rose for far too long, a look of unbridled interest on his face. Madame Pomfrey, however, was not finished.

"At least your son has much better manners than you, Mr. Malfoy. I hear he was quite the hero on the pitch today. If he hadn't put his broom into a dive to catch Miss Potter before she could hit the ground, she most certainly would have died."

Severus really wished she hadn't shared that little detail. Even the Headmaster looked pained. Lucius, not surprisingly, was less than pleased to discover that his son had had a hand in saving the Girl-Who-Lived, but he was shrewd enough not to express such an opinion out loud. Narcissa, however, seemed genuinely proud of her son's actions.

Ever the peacemaker, Dumbledore finally spoke. "Yes, we are all proud of young Draco's actions, but perhaps he needs some quiet and rest. Lucius, if you will accompany me to my office, I can show you the agenda for the upcoming Governor's Board meeting. I'm sure your wife would like some extra time to say goodbye."

The arrogant wizard's eyes narrowed with suspicion, but he could find no reason to refuse. "Of course, Headmaster. There are a few items in light of this regrettable incident that I feel should be placed on the agenda, the dementors being one of them." Addressing Narcissa, he said stiffly, "I shan't be more than a half hour. Be waiting for me at the Entrance Hall."

Her smile was strained, and Severus noticed that she unconsciously rubbed her left wrist. "It will not take long to speak to Draco, Lucius. I promise not to make you wait."

Ignoring the Potions Master, school matron, and even his own son, the arrogant wizard gave a haughty, "See that you don't," before following Dumbledore out of the Hospital Wing. As soon as he had left, Narcissa let out a palpable sigh of relief. Uncomfortable with such a reaction, Poppy again retreated to her office.

Narcissa took Draco into her arms once more. "No matter the consequences, I am proud of you, my son, never forget that."

"Mum." Severus' ears caught the child's apprehension and listened all the more intently.

"It's alright, Draco. It is important that you learn how to be a gentleman. In that, Severus has taught you well."

His reply had more than a hint of desperation. "He can't blame you for that, can he?"

Her smile was far too bright for Severus' taste. "Of course he won't, dear. Your father has an intense dislike of Miss Potter because of the events of last year, but he will see how beneficial it is for you to have publically saved her life. Such an act can't do anything but advance our family's name in the wizarding world."

"Yeah," he hesitantly agreed, still somewhat unsure. Narcissa, however, didn't give him time to think. Calling for Madame Pomfrey, she warmly kissed Draco on the forehead and then ordered the Medi-Witch to give her son a Sleeping Potion to combat the pain of the Skele-Gro. Draco was asleep within a minute.

Surprisingly, Mrs. Malfoy did not immediately take her leave. Instead, she walked to Rose's side to gently stroke her cheek. Looking up as Snape came to stand beside her, she smiled sadly.

"I am a mother first and foremost, Severus. It pains me to see such suffering in one so young. She will need extra support while that horrid potion runs through her veins. Why isn't her family here with her?"

Curiosity warred with his innate caution. "She is the last of the Potters, and Lily was Muggleborn. You know this, Narcissa. What, exactly, are you asking?"

"Surely the Headmaster would not deny her relatives the chance to visit her after such a grave injury. Why are they not at her side?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly weary. Unexpectedly, he felt a gentle warmth spreading through his body. When it ended, his sopping wet robes and hair were dry. He acknowledged her kindness with a polite nod.

"I think that question is best left unanswered for now."

She didn't respond, save to push Rose's hair out of her eyes, exposing her jagged, lightning bolt scar. Ignoring it completely, she bent down to press a kiss on the child's forehead.

"She reminds me of you at that age, you know."

"How so?" Of everything she might have said, he had not expected that.

For the first time that evening, her eyes sparkled in amusement. "I can read between the lines of my son's letters quite well, Severus. He is jealous of the girl's talent, much like your classmates were of yours. And, he never fails to detail a prank played against her or an attempt to hex her. They are too numerous to recount. The only difference seems to be that her friends are truer than Lily was to you."

"Narcissa—"

"It is the truth, whether you wish to acknowledge it or not." For a moment, she searched his face, and then she looked to the ground. When she looked back at him, she was once again the regal Narcissa Malfoy, proud pure-blood wife of the imposing Lucius Malfoy. She addressed him somewhat coolly.

"After all these years, I see you are still not ready for the truth when it comes to your precious Miss Evans. I bid goodnight to you, Severus. I really should not keep my husband waiting."

Something inside him snapped, and he angrily blocked her path. "What happens when you make him wait, Narcissa? Why was your son so concerned about Lucius' reaction to finding out that he had come to Rose's assistance?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said frostily, neatly sidestepping him.

He watched her slow retreat with something akin to remorse. Before she could leave, he quietly called out. "I apologize if I misinterpreted the situation. I am well aware that Lily was not my only friend at Hogwarts. If you ever need anything, you need only ask."

She stopped for a moment, but she did not turn around. Nor did she speak. When she disappeared from his view, he sighed in relief. What the bloody hell had he been thinking? He could barely protect Rose, who was at least a student under his care. How could he possibly protect Narcissa from the likes of Lucius Malfoy without getting thrown into Azkaban or worse?

Thankful finally to have some peace and solitude, he conjured a chair to sit at Rose's bedside. His quiet was loudly interrupted only fifteen minutes later when a panicked Molly Weasley burst into the room. Arthur was swift on her heels.

"Ginny sent an owl. We came as soon as we could," she said by way of explanation as she anxiously felt Rose's cheek for any sign of fever. "How is she?"

"She almost died."

His blunt reply shocked them both. "Died?" Arthur asked in disbelief. "Ginny said she was knocked off her broom."

"The presence of so many Dementors seems to have had a strange effect on her magic. Madame Pomfrey believes she had something akin to an allergic reaction."

Arthur couldn't fail to notice the emphasis that Severus had placed on Poppy's name. Glancing to the matron's office, he saw the door was closed. "But you don't?"

"No, she told me that her original impression had been that Rose had used her magic to stop her own heart, although she almost immediately changed her tune when given a ridiculous alternative."

Molly's hand flew to her mouth to cover a gasp. "She wouldn't!"

Arthur immediately went to her side, placing his hand comfortingly on her back. For an instant Snape wished there was someone to comfort him, but he viciously squelched his fledgling self-pity to reassure the Weasleys.

"I do not believe it was a conscious decision. However, I believe whatever she remembered was so horrible that death was preferable to reliving it. Or, perhaps, she knew she couldn't repel the dementors, so she subconsciously decided death was preferable to losing one's soul."

Both Weasleys were shaken, although they did not dismiss his theories merely because they were unpleasant. After a moment's introspection, however, Arthur pointed out a serious flaw in Snape's argument.

"Ginny didn't mention any of this, Severus. If I am to assume Rose's heart was still beating on the pitch, how do you explain the lag between her encountering the dementors and her arrest?"

He couldn't. It was a very good question. Why had Rose's heart taken so long to stop? Suspicious, he checked for her body for evidence of spells. Tersely, he related his alarming discovery.

"Stunners, five of them. Almost certainly cast as she fell. With the ferocity of the storm, it would have been impossible to see the flashes. No doubt they affected her heart enough to cause cardiac arrest in light of her other injuries."

"Why didn't Poppy . . . ?"

He understood the nurturing witch's reluctance to accuse the school matron of negligence, but in this case, the answer was fairly obvious.

"There was no reason to suspect such a thing. She simply treated Rose for her physical injuries and her encounter with the dementors. Not even Albus was aware of the fact that she had been stupefied so many times."

"But that means—"

Molly's sudden inability to finish a sentence was making his head ache. "It means that someone took advantage of Rose's reaction to the dementors to purposefully attack her."

"Someone with very good aim."

Arthur had a point. Not many wizards or witches would have had the skill to accurately cast five stunners in such a short amount of time, especially in a storm such as the one that had pounded the pitch.

They lapsed into a glum silence. Finally, Molly thought to ask if they were facing the same situation as with Professor Quirrell in Rose's first year. Since Lupin was the only new member of the staff, Snape reluctantly ruled out a teacher as the suspect. While it might have been a student, it would be impossible to determine the culprit after so much time had elapsed.

Of course, the obvious answer was in the forefront of their minds, and Arthur finally voiced it. "How can anyone protect her if Sirius Black can come and go as he pleases?"

Snape didn't bother to answer since he had no answer to give. Nor did Molly, who was tapping her foot against the floor so rapidly that he thought it might fall off.

"We should inform Madame Pomfrey. Rose should be at St. Mungo's."

The stress finally became too much and Snape snapped. "You will do no such thing. For once in your life, think before you act, Molly! If Black can so easily manage to breach the layers of protection meant to keep him out of Hogwarts, how much easier will it be for him to walk into St. Mungo's and kill the girl as she sleeps? I cannot accompany her there without revealing the guardianship. I know Albus; once my guardianship became known, he would immediately apparate to Privet Drive to convince Petunia to revoke it."

"I thought they hated the girl, Severus. Surely, she would not revoke your guardianship since it means she can be rid of her niece for good."

"It is more complicated than that," he admitted resignedly. "And the Headmaster can be very persuasive. In fact, it is important that he not become suspicious in the first place. I suggest you return home after reassuring your brood that Miss Potter is indeed alive. I will owl you the moment she wakes."

They left with obvious reluctance. The Potions Master again settled himself for a quiet bedside vigil, but it was not to be.

Minerva McGonagall explained her abrupt presence in an accusatory manner. "Molly informed me that Rose's heart had stopped beating. Why in Merlin's name wasn't I notified?"

He silently counted to fifty. "I have not had the chance, Minerva. There has been a veritable parade of people since Rose and Draco were brought here, and I have not had the opportunity to contact you in private.

Understanding, she briefly glanced at Madame Pomfrey's office. The door was shut, but the matron was liable to check on her patients at any moment.

"Well? What are you waiting for, Severus? We're alone now. No time like the present."

He ignored McGonagall's gruffness much like he had ignored Lucius' arrogance. Both were long held personality traits that would likely never change. Though, at least Minerva's frosty exterior held no real malice.

"I believe her heart stopped because of the five stunners someone, most likely Sirius Black, hit her with as she fell. Poppy and Albus are unaware that this occurred. It was only after speaking to Arthur Weasley that I had reason to suspect something else might have caused her arrest. We have more pressing problems at the moment, however. She was given the Potion of Last Resort, and will no doubt be in the Hospital Wing for a week or more recuperating. Considering Black's ability to breach the castle walls, she must not be left alone at any time."

"Won't she be sent to St. Mungo's? Rose will need extensive care for the next week. I doubt Poppy can adequately care for her and perform her other duties."

"Indeed she cannot," called out a very unwelcome voice from the doorway. Snape thought his own heart might just give out. There stood Albus Dumbledore, his blue eyes steely with determination.

He explained further as he walked towards them. "Rose will be sent home for her recuperation. It is the only place where I can be completely assured of her safety."

"Over my dead body!" Snape thought, practically enraged at the possibility.

It was only after he noticed the horrified expression on McGonagall's face and the all too calm, calculating one on Dumbledore's that he realized he had spoken those words out loud. Merlin, what had he done?


	17. The Headmaster's Defeat

Author's Notes - As you'll see in this chapter, Snape is Slytherin enough to let others fight his battles, but has matured to the point where he is able to speak up when it really matters. Hope you enjoy the chapter, and a big thank you to Fleursuoh who reviewed the last one and Very Small Prophet who reviewed several. Feeback is always appreciated!

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><p>"I'm sorry, Severus. I'm afraid I didn't hear you correctly. Would you mind repeating that?"<p>

Not for the first time in his life, Severus Snape felt as though Albus Dumbledore held his life in his hands. The Headmaster was most assuredly displeased, although he was being gracious enough to give his former spy a way out. He need only dismiss his comment as inconsequential, and he would no doubt be forgiven. The incident, however, would never be forgotten. And, Miss Potter would spend the next week at the Dursleys, which would likely send her into a depression so deep that she would never be able to crawl out of it. There was no other choice; he might as well be hanged for a dragon as well as an egg.

Occluding his mind, he focused on remaining calm and speaking clearly. "I am quite confident that I did not stutter, Headmaster. Miss Potter will not be returning to the Dursleys to recover from the potion."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed and Snape would forever be grateful to Minerva for jumping to his defense.

"Well, of course she won't! The idea is simply preposterous. Rose needs to be under the care of a trained Healer, not a bunch of incompetent Muggles."

Dumbledore let out a long suffering sigh. "I'm afraid, Minerva, that it is simply too dangerous to allow Rose to be treated at St. Mungo's. They have only minimal security, and I fear it would be all too easy for Sirius Black to gain entrance."

McGonagall was on a rant, and didn't let his explanation stymie her for long. "Then, by all means, keep her here! You know she can't go back there, Albus! Not after this summer! She needs someplace where she can feel safe and loved, and that definitely won't happen in the care of her relatives. I told you years ago that she didn't belong with those Muggles, and I will continue to say the same until you see reason. Rose stays at Hogwarts."

The Headmaster gazed at the two of them, his expression inscrutable. Finally, he conditionally surrendered. "Perhaps you are correct, Minerva. However, I must leave the final decision up to Madame Pomfrey. Only she can say if she will have sufficient time to care for Miss Potter."

The school matron immediately opened her door, walking out as if she had been intending to check up on her patients all along. No one was fooled for a second, but they allowed her to keep her illusion of disinterest.

Dumbledore immediately stated his case with all the sweetness of one of those sherbet lemons of which he was so fond. "Ah, Poppy, just the person we needed to see. I'm afraid there is some question as to where Miss Potter should recuperate from the effects of the Potion of Last Resort. I was just explaining to her Head of House that you would be far too busy to care for such a sick child while continuing with your normal duties. Don't you agree that she would be better off with her family for the next week or so?"

The usually stern Medi-Witch suddenly looked at a loss for words. It was clear that she felt uncomfortable being dragged into the middle of what was so obviously a disagreement between the Headmaster and the Deputy Headmistress. However, she had her own opinions about Rose's relatives, and she quickly sided with Professor McGonagall.

"While I'm sure a loving family member could sufficiently care for Rose, I believe she would be better served at Hogwarts, Headmaster. Here, she will have the support of her friends. I propose that some of the staff assist me with my duties for the short-term. I told Severus this afternoon that he would make an excellent Healer. I'm sure he and Madame Hooch and Professor Sprout would be willing to take over some of my duties when they aren't teaching their classes."

Dumbledore's benevolent smile grew pained. "Don't you think that's asking quite a lot of them, Poppy? I wouldn't want any of the staff to feel pressured into working themselves into exhaustion."

Snape almost snorted. Whenever Albus was backed into a corner, he tended to resort to guilt to get his way. This time was no exception, although Madame Pomfrey was far less susceptible to the ploy than Severus was himself.

She answered crisply, as if the very idea was absurd. "It's only for a week or so, Headmaster. I can't see how anyone could be worked into exhaustion by spending a few hours in the Hospital Wing every day for a week."

"Whatever you think best, of course."

His answer, though a capitulation, was phrased in just such a way to let Poppy know that if the arrangement ended in disaster, it would be entirely her fault. She flushed at the realization and then stiffened her shoulders in resolve. As a coup de grace, she blatantly employed her one unassailable tactic.

"It's settled, then. If you will excuse me, I really must check on Rose and Draco. I hope the three of you understand their need for quiet and solitude tonight. I will inform you immediately when either wakes."

Snape couldn't help the smirk, even if she had decreed that he leave Rose's side. Not only had she stood up to Dumbledore, but she had also managed to kick him out in much the same way he had dismissed her before the Malfoys had descended upon the infirmary. Poppy was a Hufflepuff through and through, but perhaps she'd learned some Slytherin from her students over the years.

Dumbledore blinked before his mask of congenially slipped naturally back into place. As they walked out of the Hospital Wing side by side, Snape feared he was in for a long night of dressing down in the Headmaster's office. However, McGonagall once again came to his rescue.

"As soon as you're finished speaking to your Slytherins, Severus, I would appreciate it if you would meet me in my office. There is some disagreement about whether or not to have a rematch or simply let the score stand as is."

"I believe Slytherin was behind in points, but I will ask which they prefer. With both Seekers out, it might be difficult to reschedule the game. Perhaps we could elicit Madame Hooch's opinion as well."

"A fine idea," she agreed, daring to smile at Albus. Snape let her relish her victory as he retreated to the relative safety of the dungeons. Only after walking into the chaos that was the Slytherin Common Room did he dare breathe a sigh of relief.

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><p>Entering Minerva's office, Snape thought as he always did that the furnishings truly fit the witch. Her office was utilitarian, bordering on austere. There were no padded chairs or tea cozies in sight. However, like the witch herself, if you looked closer, there were many glaring inconsistencies that belied that first impression.<p>

A tin of shortbread sat on her desk, as did an antique porcelain teapot along with two matching teacups. The books about Transfiguration that lined her shelves were interspersed with discreet mementos of adventures long past, including a brightly colored postcard from Barbados that had always intrigued him. There were a few tasteful cat-themed knickknacks as well, no doubt gifts from students of years past. It was the mantel clock over the fire that was the most telling, however. It was polished, but timeworn, and each hour was marked by a small sepia photograph. The witches and wizards on the timepiece all resembled the Deputy Headmistress in some form or another. In contrast to Minerva's frosty facade, they all waved cheerfully whenever a visitor arrived.

Sitting down, Severus opened the tin of shortbread and took two pieces. The shortbread was always fresh and always homemade, and he often wondered who delivered such treats to Minerva on such a regular basis.

"By all means, have a biscuit, Severus." Her sarcasm was tempered with mirth as she poured him a cup of tea.

"I shall have two," he pointed out quite unnecessarily. "I could not muster up any enthusiasm for food at dinner, but now I find myself famished."

"Stress," she answered succinctly before she surrendered to the urge to mother him a bit. "While it's certainly understandable, you can't afford to miss many meals. You are finally regaining some of the weight you had lost."

"It is reassuring that someone has noticed," he dryly replied before turning serious. "I can't thank you enough for coming to my aid tonight. I do not know what came over me."

"Stress," she answered again, a little more briskly this time. "And, I did it for Rose's sake as much as yours, Severus. I truly cannot believe that Albus would ever consider sending Rose to the Dursleys' to recover."

"I believe he wished to place her under the blood wards in order to protect her from Sirius Black, but such a strategy ignores her state of mind. She must not return to Privet Drive alone."

Incredulous, the witch unthinkingly tipped four spoonsful of sugar into her tea. "She must not return to Privet Drive at all."

The rich, buttery shortbread turned rancid in his mouth. "It may not be as simple as that, Minerva. Albus placed a charm on Miss Potter shortly after the Dark Lord was vanquished. Because of the nature of Lily's sacrifice, once Petunia had accepted the child into her home, blood wards were created, wards powerful enough to ensure that the Dark Lord cannot touch her until she comes of age."

"She cannot go back to that house and those horrid Muggles!"

"I admit my knowledge of the subject of blood protection is lacking. I am trying to find a way around the requirement, but at this point in time, our concern must be for her recovery, and not what might or might not happen at the end of term."

Somewhat appeased, she drank from her teacup, only to frown at the overly sweet brew. You're right, of course. Tell me your thoughts on the matter."

For the next hour, they strategized on how best to foster Rose's recovery. When they had run out of viable ideas, Severus thanked her sincerely for the tea and took his leave. It was imperative that he get some sleep before Rose woke. Dumbledore aside, he wanted to be there to assure the child that she would make a complete recovery.

While the Potion of Last Resort had the power to start a stopped heart, it did so at great cost to the patient. Rose would be weak to the point of being unable to care for herself for several days. Her physical frailty would be coupled with a lassitude severe enough that it could quickly lead to despondency if she didn't find sufficient motivation to fight it. In reality, though she was alive, there was still a danger of losing her.

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><p>Walking into the Hospital Wing before the light of dawn, Severus observed Poppy slumped in the chair he had summoned to Rose's bedside the day before. Pulling a blanket off an unoccupied bed, he draped it over her shoulders before walking towards Draco. He knew Rose wouldn't wake for at least another eight hours, but his surprisingly brave Slytherin was another matter entirely. While the castle slept, he was determined to have a private chat with the boy.<p>

"Professor Snape."

Sitting down beside Draco, the Potions Master studied his student's face in the dim light of the lanterns. His eyes were rimmed with purple shadows. Nervously, he fingered his left wrist, much like Narcissa had the day before. Severus filed that away for further contemplation.

"I thought you might wake early. Would you like something for the pain?"

In contrast to his minor injury at the beginning of the school year, it seemed that Draco was somewhat stoic in regards to broken bones.

"It doesn't hurt so much anymore, Professor. I just feel really worn out for someone who's been sleeping since late afternoon."

He pulled a silver-wrapped bar of chocolate from his robes. "Here, eat this. It will help counteract your exposure to so many dementors."

Draco did have more color in his face after he had eaten the entire bar. Resting against a pile of pillows, he craned his neck to peer at Rose.

"Will chocolate work on her, too?"

"No, not after the potion Madame Pomfrey was forced to give her. I'm afraid it will take time for her to heal."

He could practically see the thoughts going through the child's head, although he didn't attempt to read them. As he had suspected, Draco did not truly despise Rose Potter. In fact, he sounded all too emotional when he finally spoke again.

"I know what that potion was, Professor. My grandmother was given it, but it didn't work for her. The dementors didn't get close enough to Kiss her, did they? I dove as quickly as I could, but it was so hard to see and I'm afraid—"

He interrupted before the proud boy burst into tears. That would be far too uncomfortable for the both of them. "She was not Kissed. She was stunned five times as she fell."

"Five times? But, who would stun Potter like that? It could have killed her!"

Snape swiftly shushed him, not wishing to wake Poppy by his outburst. Sharply, he remonstrated his Slytherin for not thinking logically.

"After making it your duty to warn Miss Potter of the danger Sirius Black poses to her, you fail to consider that, perhaps, the crazed wizard might be successful? I am disappointed in you, Draco."

Taken aback, he thought through the possibilities quickly enough. "You think Black attacked her? Why hasn't the Ministry assigned an auror to her? Why rely on the dementors when it's clear they failed to keep that nutter in Azkaban or out of the castle?"

"All excellent questions, Mr. Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin for using your brain. Unfortunately, I have no answers to give you. Perhaps an auror will be assigned to her if your father is successful in removing the dementors from Hogwarts.

He snorted at the thought. "Good one, Professor. We both know how my father feels about Rose. Ever since she tricked him into freeing Dobby, he mentions how unfortunate it would be if she met with a fatal accident on a weekly basis."

"Your father will not directly harm Miss Potter so long as it will likely earn him a one-way trip to Azkaban. Lucius is too content with the trappings of the aristocracy to jeopardize it for some petty revenge."

"It's the directly I'm worried about," the child muttered under his breath.

Snape let it pass. He didn't think Lucius would be a real threat unless the Dark Lord returned. Then, he would be a dangerous foe. Better for everyone if the Dark Lord did not return at all. It was time, however, to redirect the conversation before he uncovered any truths about the Malfoys that he did not wish to know.

"Your Housemates would like your input regarding yesterday's Quidditch game. Since neither of you captured the snitch, Slytherin has been given the option of rescheduling the match or allowing the score to stand as is."

Draco didn't have to think. Even whispering, his outrage was evident. "But, we were losing, Professor! Why would we cede the game?"

"Madame Hooch endorsed the solution. She thought it would be the fairest option considering that both teams had lost their Seekers."

A cunning grin stole over Draco's face, and in that instant, Snape knew his student had recovered fully from his ordeal. "Well, I do feel sorry for Rose, Professor. But Quidditch is Quidditch, and we play to win. The game should be rescheduled."

"Somehow, I thought that would be your answer."

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><p>In the end, Severus wasn't the first person to speak to Rose once she had regained consciousness. He was, in fact, the seventh. It wasn't that Poppy had failed to inform him, but he desired privacy to speak to his ward, and in the first few hours of her recovery, there was precious little of that.<p>

Standing Disillusioned behind a privacy screen, he blatantly eavesdropped on the conversation that Hermione Granger and the Weasley troll were attempting to have with Rose. So far, they had been unable to elicit a response from her.

The longer they sat by her side without a reaction from their friend, the more uncomfortable they became. Granger was giving it a valiant effort, but Weasley was growing increasingly annoying. Perhaps he hoped to aggravate Rose to the point where she would be compelled to yell at him to shut up.

"So, uh, McGonagall said you almost died. Again. She's really upset, not that she's blaming you or anything, mind you. It's not your fault you're weak when it comes to the dementors."

"Ronald!"

Miss Granger's reproving hiss was the only thing that had kept him from walking over to the troll and dragging him out of the infirmary by his ear. Rose did not need any encouragement to start blaming herself for her near death experience.

"What?"

Merlin, that boy was thick. It was astounding that he was passing any of his classes.

"It wasn't Rose's fault. The dementors shouldn't have been anywhere near the pitch."

Weasley's ensuing apology was just as bad as the original offense.

"Uh, yeah, that's true enough, I guess, Rose. It wasn't really your fault. Wish you could have seen your fall, though! Don't know what got into him, but it was wicked how Draco put his broom into a dive to grab you. Too bad you were so heavy. Hey! I guess it wasn't your fault that he broke his wrists, either! You should have seen the bones sticking out of his skin! Pavarti fainted, and I've never seen the Slytherins so angry. You might want to watch out for hexes, though, when you go back to class."

This time, Hermione didn't bother with lowering her voice, and Snape had the mental picture of a harpy eviscerating her prey.

"Ronald Weasley! How could you? That's it! We're going! And, you better do all your homework for once because you are not copying off of me tonight, understand?"

"'Mione, don't go mental. I was just trying to cheer Rose up by telling her about Malfoy. You gotta admit that it was pretty funny."

The girl muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Boys!" before cheerily telling Rose to get well soon and promising to visit every day. When she dragged Weasley out of the room, the Potions Master wanted to applaud.

When peace settled over the infirmary once again, Snape chanced a look. Save for Rose, the room was refreshingly empty. Revealing himself, he sat next to her in a chair that was getting far too much use for his liking. After a few minutes of silence, he began to have an inkling of the awkwardness Weasley must have felt. He knew she was awake and aware; her eyes had tracked his progress to her side, but she didn't give any indication of consciousness besides that.

With much deliberation, he took her hand in his, although this, too, failed to provoke a reaction. Unlike many, he was not given to bouts of coddling. His speech, therefore, was slow and matter-of-fact. He didn't gloss over what had happened to her, but neither did he feel the need to rehash it.

"As Madame Pomfrey has no doubt informed you, the fatigue you are experiencing is due to the Potion of Last Resort she was forced to give you when your heart stopped beating. I wish to assure you that it is but a temporary side effect. You will feel better, and you will be able to care for yourself within a week. You will not suffer any long term effects, and I'm sure you will be up and about annoying your teachers very soon."

It was like talking to a coma patient, and he had to squelch his desire to ramble. After a few minutes of loud silence, he tried again to get her to respond.

"I am beginning to question your taste in friends, Miss Potter. While Miss Granger is sensible and fiercely loyal, Mr. Weasley has all the makings of a lifelong dunderhead. His lack of tact is only superseded by his lack of discretion. I truly do not understand how he was able to defeat the enchanted chessboard in his first year."

Her eyes didn't so much as blink in response.

Leaning over, Severus gently squeezed her hand. "It wasn't your fault, Rose. The sheer number of dementors made it a certainty that you would fall off your broom. And, contrary to the Weasley's opinion, you are far from weak. You were stunned five times as you fell. A weaker witch would have died. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

He thought he detected a glimmer of interest in her eyes, but it soon dimmed.

"I believe you gave the young Mr. Malfoy quite a scare. He is genuinely concerned about you. Yes, he can be an annoying, pompous, arrogant git, but he is not his father. You would do well to remember that."

Nothing had worked, and Severus was growing desperate. Haltingly, he confessed his own reaction to her fall.

"I suppose . . . in the interest of fairness, that is . . . perhaps it would be best . . . ." He trailed off, feeling as awkward as Ronald Weasley.

"What I have been attempting so inelegantly to say, Rose, is that I was frightened as well. I care deeply about your welfare. . . . No, that is not true. I care deeply about you. Furthermore, as you should already be aware, so do Molly and Arthur, Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey, Professor Lupin, most of the rest of the staff and a vast majority of the students. The potion still running through your veins will leave you susceptible to doubts, doubts that could lead to despair if left unchecked. You must fight this, Rose. You have a family much larger and consequential than the Dursleys, a family who loves you very much. You must get better. You simply must."

For a moment, nothing happened. And, then, he felt the slightest pressure on his fingers. Looking down, he watched as she feebly attempted to grip his hand. A rare, joyous smile lit up his face.


	18. Cards and Letters

Author's Notes - Don't worry, Rose will recover and be ready for trouble soon. However, she's still stuck in the Hospital Wing as the chapter focuses on Severus' growing role in her life. Thanks so much to everyone who's put the story on alert or favorite, and a special thank you to FleurSuoh, Coral Grace, Amanda and Very Small Prophet for reviewing. I appreciate the feedback!

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><p>Rose was asleep when Severus entered the Hospital Wing. Since there were no carelessly injured dunderheads to take care of that afternoon, he took the time to inspect the copious amount of cards and impressive stack of gifts his ward had received during the past five days.<p>

Some of the cards were actually quite clever. He was especially impressed by Fred and George's, which had been charmed to display a miniature Quidditch pitch, complete with tiny images of the Gryffindor team zooming around on brooms, all yelling loudly for Rose to get better soon. Closing it when the shouting became overly boisterous, he dug deeper into the pile. As was to be expected, most of the cards were from Gryffindors, but there were a decent number of well wishes from Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs as well. One letter in particular, however, caught his eye. It was a formal missive written with silver ink on fine green linen stationery.

_Dear Rose,_

_I am sorry you were injured on Saturday. The dementors have no place at Hogwarts. I saw Madame Pomfrey give you the potion. You should be glad that you were unconscious and unable to remember it. _

_Professor Snape tells me that you need time to get better, but I've never known chocolate to go amiss. Please accept this box of Honeydukes' finest. I swear that they are not contaminated or hexed in any way, but if you don't trust me, you could always make Weasley try one first._

_Respectfully,_

_Draco Malfoy_

_P.S. – The game between Slytherin and Gryffindor has been rescheduled for the end of November. I hope you are well enough to play by then so I can beat you fair and square._

Snape suppressed a smirk as he rifled through Rose's candy. Draco's offering was the largest, but not so large as to be ostentatious. It was a box of assorted dark chocolates predictably wrapped in green foil. Like all the other gifts of food, it remained unopened. Curious, he broke the seal and popped a random piece in his mouth. Nothing untoward occurred, although he could tell by the rich, intense flavor of the chocolate that the box truly was Honeydukes' finest.

"Temptation finally get the better of you, Professor?"

Pleased to hear the spirit in Rose's voice, Severus allowed himself a smile. "Hardly, Miss Potter. I was merely saving Mr. Weasley the chore of being your taster."

She gave him a smug look that told him she didn't believe him for a second, and his smile widened in response. Helping her sit up, he placed enough fluffy pillows behind her to act as a backrest. The simple act of sitting wore her out, but her mood was unusually positive. He handed her Fred and George's card.

"An impressive charm, I might have to revisit my assumptions about the twins."

Entranced by miniature images of her teammates flying about the pitch, Rose admitted that she hadn't looked at any of the get well wishes yet. Severus spent the next half hour reading her cards out loud. Most were simple but heartfelt sentiments that she recover soon, although a few of the girls had written long, gossipy letters full of the daily drama only a teenager could possibly think important. The Potions Master read them with a tone of such disgust that Rose giggled at his discomfort. He had just finished a particularly odd, rambling letter written by Luna Lovegood when Hermione Granger rushed into the Hospital Wing, her overstuffed schoolbag threatening to split open.

"Am I too late to visit? It's not dinnertime is it, Professor?"

He thought it strange that such a conscientious student could lose track of the time, but he kept his musings to himself. Instead, he quickly vacated the chair and gestured for Hermione to sit.

"It is half four, Miss Granger, and Rose was sleeping earlier, so you have come at the perfect time."

The girl's relief was so obvious that Snape wondered what had caused her anxiety in the first place. Again, he deliberately chose to ignore her uncharacteristic behavior. Hermione had been Rose's staunchest ally during her recuperation, and he did not want to push the girl away with his naturally suspicious nature. Still, Granger was looking more harried than usual. Perhaps he should ask Minerva. If it was a problem that could impact his ward, then he wanted to know about it.

The girls were soon joined by Ronald Weasley, who immediately noticed the opened box of chocolate and helped himself. When he asked Rose if she would like one, Snape was stunned by his singular display of manners and even more shocked when Rose said yes. The child let the piece of chocolate melt on her tongue with a look of pure bliss.

He was not able to eavesdrop on their conversation because a Slytherin first year soon entered the infirmary covered in red, itchy welts that had been caused by a powerful hex. While he easily cured her hives, he could not convince Miss Gamp to reveal the identity of the person who had hexed her.

Her reticence proved that the perpetrator was a member of her House. Slytherins learned early not to make their quarrels public, but it frustrated him that she wouldn't confide in her own Head of House. If the hives had been any more serious, she would have ended up spending the night in the Hospital Wing.

As he reluctantly released the girl, he noticed with some alarm that Weasley and Granger's growing argument greatly upset Rose. Tears pooling in her eyes, her bottom lip trembled before she let out a sob. Immediately, her friends grew contrite, but the damage had already been done.

"Out, both of you," he growled, his voice pitched low to avoid upsetting Rose further. "You know what Madame Pomfrey has said about distressing Miss Potter. Take your petty argument and leave."

The Weasley brat had the audacity to argue that it wasn't his fault. Snape frankly didn't care what had happened to his rat and told him so as he resisted the temptation to drag the troll out by his ear. Miss Granger kept apologizing for creating a disturbance, but her assurances were only making Rose cry harder, and he harshly ordered her to keep silent.

Once he had rid the Hospital Wing of the two Gryffindors, he went to comfort and confront Rose.

"Your friends' argument was not your fault. If anyone is to blame, you should blame Miss Granger's familiar, although you cannot truly hold such a creature accountable for following its instincts."

Her crying continued, and he was forced to give her a Calming Draught. He hated giving her that particular potion. Rose disliked the idea of being weak in any way, and invariably berated herself for needing it. More troubling, her mannerisms under the potion were stilted, almost wooden. In his most recent nightmares, she wore the same blank expression when he couldn't save her from the dementor's Kiss.

"Your friends are not angry at you, Rose."

"Yes, Professor."

Her answer was given so tonelessly that a chill went down his spine. Then and there he vowed not to use the Calming Draught on her again. He couldn't bear to hear the numbness in her voice. Without his usual lecture, he removed the pillows and eased her back onto the bed. She was asleep within minutes.

An hour later, Poppy briskly emerged from her rooms to relieve him for the night shift. She looked more chipper than anyone whose sleep cycle had been flipped had a right to be.

"How was Miss Potter this afternoon, Severus?"

"She was doing quite well," he answered, emphasizing the past tense. "However, her friends decided to have a heated argument in front of her with predictable results. I had no choice but to give her a Calming Draught."

"That's a shame," the school matron tutted. "Still, they are children, and children make mistakes. I'm sure Rose will continue to improve."

He left shortly after that. Madame Pomfrey's optimism occasionally grated on his nerves. He walked briskly to the Great Hall, hardly needing his cane. Reaching the staff table, he muttered pleasantries with those bothering to speak with him before sitting purposefully between Minerva and Filius. Most days, he could tolerate Lupin fairly well, but the wolf invariably said something to remind him of his miserable childhood. After the afternoon spent in the Hospital Wing, he didn't need any additional promptings for nightmares that evening.

Minerva began to grill him before he could place his napkin on his lap. "How is Rose, Severus?"

"Sleeping. I was forced to give her a Calming Draught."

They both looked at him expectantly, and he bit back a sigh.

"Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger were having a row about Weasley's rat. It seems that Miss Granger's familiar has been attempting to kill it. They were agitated enough to upset Rose."

"So that's it," Filius remarked with the air of a man who had solved a very complex puzzle. "Miss Granger has been practicing her spells on Mr. Weasley a bit too forcefully of late. I had wondered why."

"Rats aren't on the approved list," McGonagall announced with a disdainful sniff. "I could request that he leave the animal home over the holidays."

"I wouldn't advise that course of action unless you are ready to inspect all four Houses for contraband pets, Minerva. Snakes aren't on the list either. But, several of my Slytherins keep nonpoisonous ones as pets."

"Zacharias Smith keeps a parrot. I get complaints at least once a year about the vocabulary the bird uses, but I wouldn't want to take it away from him. There are times when that boy has said something aggravating enough that only the parrot will speak to him."

"I suppose you're right. Although, if I ever hear of anyone keeping something dangerous in the castle, I'll confiscate it and give it to Hagrid!"

As Severus picked at his pork chops, he was abruptly accosted by Madame Hooch, who stood in front of him with her arms crossed.

"Did you inform Potter today?"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose before answering. "No, Rolanda, I did not. Nor will you. Poppy is going to do so when she feels Rose is ready. That broom was very important to her, and she will not be told of its destruction until she is strong enough to cope."

"Poppy coddles the child, Severus. In her eyes, Rose will never be strong enough."

Once, he would have agreed. Now, however, he wished the girl had received more coddling. Perhaps she could have found a happy enough memory with which to conjure a Patronus.

"As far as I know, Poppy remains the school matron. I will take her at her word. When Rose is strong enough to be told, she will be told. I suggest you do the same."

As Madame Hooch walked off in a huff, Severus lost the rest of his appetite. Excusing himself, he didn't see the looks of sympathy his tablemates gave him, which was for the best. He certainly would not have welcomed any coddling aimed in his direction.

* * *

><p>Returning to his rooms, he dutifully wrote a letter to the Weasleys. He had promised to keep Molly apprised of Rose's progress.<p>

_Dear Molly,_

_Rose continues to improve, although not as quickly as she would like. She had somewhat of a setback today when Ronald and Miss Granger had a childish spat in front of her. Her emotions still tend towards melancholy, and Madame Pomfrey has deemed it too traumatic to tell her of the fate of her broomstick yet. _

_While I sincerely appreciate the invitation for us to celebrate Christmas at the Burrow, I'm sure Arthur has told you that such a thing would be impossible. I would prefer the Headmaster not discover my guardianship until it is of a more permanent nature. To that end, I plan on visiting the Dursleys very soon._

_If I might beg a favor, I have little experience in buying gifts for young ladies, and would appreciate your advice. Rose has not confided in me the details of past Christmases, but considering other specifics of her upbringing, I cannot imagine that she has received any gifts besides utilitarian ones. Although Minerva and I plan to take her to Hogsmeade to go shopping for clothes during the holidays, I would also like to buy her a few trinkets that are popular with girls her age. Perhaps you could suggest a few items that Ginerva likes, and I could purchase similar ones for Rose._

_I will send you another letter when she is released from the Hospital Wing. Poppy has already decided and Dumbledore agrees that she will not be allowed to play Quidditch so long as the dementors are at Hogwarts. While I disagree with that decision, there is little I can do to change it. It is common knowledge among the staff. Perhaps if you let the information slip during your next letter to Fred and George, they might rally the Gryffindor team to her cause. As much as I find the sport tedious, I truly believe that it would be therapeutic for Rose to play._

_Sincerely,_

_Severus_

Rereading the letter several times, he finally sealed it and placed it on his desk. He had one more letter to write, although he would have to be much more circumspect with it.

_Dear Narcissa,_

_I am writing to update you on Draco's recovery. I can certainly understand your concern as a parent and am more than happy to ease your mind. Your son's physical injuries are healed. He is attending classes and coping well with the trauma of that day. As befitting a Malfoy, he has a strong constitution and has recovered quicker than others might._

_He is looking forward to playing the rematch between Slytherin and Gryffindor in two weeks' time. Our team is most assuredly guaranteed a victory due to the continued absence of the Gryffindor Seeker. I believe Draco is most disappointed that he will not have the opportunity to best the opposition when it is at full strength. _

_Let me reiterate that your son is doing better than most after such an ordeal. In others, I would be concerned about the lingering effects of exposure to so many dementors, but Draco shows no hints of melancholy or undue fatigue. However, please don't hesitate to owl me again should you have concerns for his health._

_Respectfully,_

_Severus Snape_

She had written to inquire about the state of Rose's health, but he knew better than to write directly of Miss Potter. If Lucius were to intercept her mail, then he would find it highly suspicious. The most he could glean from this letter was that Rose would not be playing Quidditch, which he already knew since according to Dumbledore her case had been discussed at the recent Board of Governor's meeting.

Slipping the two letters into his pocket, Snape steeled himself for his meeting with the Headmaster. Albus had requested his presence that evening, ostensibly to discuss new safeguards against the dementors, but he suspected that Rose would take center stage. Taking ten minutes to meditate, he cleared his mind of every negative emotion he harbored against his mentor, locking them away in a strongbox deep within his psyche. Somewhat more relaxed, he made his way to the Headmaster's office.

"Severus, it's good to see you, my boy. You have been quite the recluse of late."

He answered mildly, but it always irked him when the Headmaster chided him for inattention when Dumbledore knew full well that he was busy. "I have not been hiding, Albus. Surely if there was something of import you wished to discuss, you could have sought me out in the Hospital Wing."

"Yes, well, I have not wished to intrude on your time spent with Miss Potter."

There was a pregnant pause, and Severus had a terrible sense of foreboding.

"However, lately, I have become concerned with something that it pains me to voice. While your dedication to a student, especially this student, is to be applauded, I feel compelled to ask if your actions go beyond a teacher's concern for his pupil. I would hate to think that your feelings for Lily have transferred to her daughter, Severus. Such a thing, though understandable, would not be tolerated."

Heat rose into Severus' cheeks and it took every ounce of will not to jump out of his chair and formerly challenge Albus to a wizard's duel. The very thought of what the Headmaster had implied sickened him. Yes, his feelings for Rose went well beyond teacher/student, but for all his faults, he was not a pedophile, and he definitely knew the difference between the child and the mother.

"I find it insulting that you would question my motives in such a manner, Headmaster."

"You have been her fiercest advocate since the start of term. It is such an abrupt change in your behavior that I can't help but wonder at the cause."

"The cause," he ground out, his voice dripping with venom, "as you well know, Albus, is your obliviation of Miss Potter during the summer. And, I will continue to advocate for her until you acknowledge the mistake of your actions."

Dumbledore replied with exaggerated patience, and Severus couldn't help but wonder if a confrontation had been his intent all along.

"My actions have always been made with the utmost consideration for the greater good. No matter how unfair you believe me to be towards Rose, it is better for everyone if she does not remember."

"How is it better for her?" he challenged, his voice rising in volume. "She is plagued by nightmares, fears and doubts, all because deep down, she knows something terrible happened, but she hasn't been allowed to remember. All you have done is damage her further at a time when Sirius Black wants her dead! She will never be the witch she was meant to be with such a handicap, Albus!"

At that, something in Dumbledore snapped, and he rose from his seat to lean over his desk towards Severus, his eyes wild with fury.

"Ariana is better off forgetting, Severus! How dare you argue otherwise! Knowledge of such an attack would greatly damage her magic! I will not have her become a danger to herself and others because of the actions of some common Muggle thugs!"

Snape forgot to breathe. What in the name of Merlin had just occurred? "Ariana, Headmaster?"

The light of insanity quickly faded from Albus Dumbledore's eyes. Hearing the name, he blanched, as if struck by a killing blow.

"A mistake, nothing more. Rose is better off not knowing of her attack; I can assure you. I apologize for questioning your motives. I see now that I was in error. Please forgive me, Severus. It has been a very trying week. I have always hoped you would come to regard Miss Potter with some degree of affection, and I am glad that she has such a fierce advocate. The past, however, cannot be changed, and you would do well to concentrate on teaching the child the Patronus Charm than dwelling on events of the summer. Please inform me weekly of your progress."

"Of course, Headmaster."

Snape somehow made it out of the office without collapsing. His faith in the great wizard had just been shaken to the core. Albus hadn't acted like the savior of the wizarding world in his office. In fact, he had come across as some sort of unhinged fanatic.

As he slowly walked up the steps to the Astronomy Tower, his thoughts were focused as never before. It was imperative that he discover what had affected his mentor to such a degree. Rose's life might depend on it. Looking out over the grounds as the owls sped off with his letters, he saw the lights of Hogsmeade, and realized that he was on familiar terms with the one person who might be able to answer his question and keep it quiet. He vowed to visit the Hog's Head tavern when he and Minerva took Rose shopping over the Christmas break.


	19. Privet Drive

Author's Notes - In this chapter, Severus returns to Privet Drive to take care of some unfinished business and learns something troubling in the process. Thanks to FleurSuoh for reviewing the last chapter, and thank you to everyone who's following this story. It's nice to know people are enjoying it!

* * *

><p>As his third year students turned in their completed potions, Severus smiled to himself. It was good to see Rose attending classes once more. Two weeks after being given the Potion of Last Resort, it was difficult to tell that she had suffered an ordeal of any sort, unless you really looked. While seemingly happy, she spoke less, even to her friends, and from the shadows under her eyes, it was apparent that she wasn't getting enough sleep.<p>

Something was bothering her, but he chalked it up to Quidditch. Filius had been correct; she loved the sport, and had keenly felt the loss of her broom. Her reaction had been even worse when Madame Pomfrey had informed her that she would not be allowed to play for the foreseeable future. Rose had cried, ranted and raved until she had finally been convinced of the futility of her protests. Then, she had begged him to teach her the Patronus Charm, rightly guessing that it was her susceptibility to the dementors that had grounded her.

Citing the aftereffects from the Potion of Last Resort, he had explained that she wouldn't be able to practice the charm until the Christmas holidays. Once again, he had seen the brief flash of self-loathing on her face, but it had been replaced by resigned acceptance too quickly for him to comment upon it. After that encounter, he was determined like never before to give her a happy thought strong enough with which to cast her Patronus.

"Mr. Malfoy, a word, if you will."

As the last of his class sprinted to the door, he regarded Draco thoughtfully. The child's transformation since the beginning of the year was nothing short of remarkable. His heroic feat on the Quidditch pitch had earned him the begrudging respect of many from rival Houses. For the past two weeks, he had strutted pridefully about the castle, but it was with the pride of actual achievement and not the arrogance of a boy who expected praise simply for being a pureblood and a Malfoy.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Do you know a student by the name of Helena Gamp?"

"She's a first year, isn't she, Professor? I haven't spoken to her, but I've seen her around the Common Room. Mostly, she stays by herself."

"She is being bullied by someone in our House and refuses to tell me whom. While I admire her loyalty, she has been injured several times now, and I had hoped that you might spend some time with her."

Draco immediately grasped Snape's strategy and a cunning grin crossed his face.

"You want me to be seen talking to her so whoever's bullying her will think she's under my protection. I don't mind, Professor. We're distantly related through the Rosiers. I'm sure I can use that as an excuse to approach her."

"Very well, Draco. Unless the bullying continues, I shall consider this matter closed. Five points to Slytherin for your willingness to assist a first year."

Sending Malfoy on his way, he spent the rest of the afternoon grading potions. Longbottom had learned little by being partnered with Miss Granger the week prior, and his Stretching Solution was a complete failure. Weasley's was passable, but only because Mr. Thomas had thought to add the rubber sap at the last minute. Miss Parkinson had somehow managed to make her solution deadly, and it took him twenty minutes to discover that she had put asphodel into her brew. Since asphodel wasn't even on the ingredient list, he penned an acerbic warning to her to pay attention in class before going on to the next vial.

* * *

><p>Finished just in time, he informed the house elves that he would take dinner that night in his rooms. Then, he took care to dress in a very Muggle black suit. Adjusting his tie, he walked up the stairs and waited until everyone had seated themselves in the Great Hall. Slipping out unnoticed, he walked briskly until he was outside the gates, and then he apparated to Surrey with a loud pop.<p>

He deliberately passed by the playground. It was dark and silent, just as it had been on that fateful night in June. His arm pained him from the mere memory of his attack, and he quickly walked on, wishing yet again that he could kill those responsible for hurting Rose. Ten minutes later, he was at the door of Number Four, Privet Drive. Ringing the bell once, he readied his wand. He was going to speak to Petunia whether she wished it or not.

It was not Petunia who answered the door, however, but her oaf of a husband, Vernon Dursley.

"What do you want?" he rudely demanded before recognizing who stood at his door. "Christ, it's you again. Come in before the neighbors notice."

Allowing Snape to enter, he immediately bellowed up the stairs. "Petunia! It's that freak again! The one who was here last summer!"

Mrs. Dursley came running down the steps as if the devil pursued her. Her hair was in rollers and she wore a housecoat over her dress. Considering her husband's attire, the two were most likely on their way out.

"Severus! Has something happened to Rose? Is she alright?"

He opened his mouth to answer but had to snap it closed as he considered her unexpected reaction. Several things had happened to Rose since the summer, and he had not once thought to inform her. A brief twinge of guilt flared in his mind, but he quickly doused it when he realized that Albus hadn't bothered to inform her, either.

"Hasn't the Headmaster contacted you?"

Her eyes widened in fear. "Something has happened to her, hasn't it? Is she—?"

"She is alive," he quickly assured her, stunned that Petunia could care for the girl's welfare quite so much after the facts he had pieced together about Rose's childhood.

"Oh, thank God. Wait. Alive? Is she hurt? Sick? Did she remember?"

"Who cares?" Dursley roared. "You heard she's alive, and I'm not taking the brat back until summer. Tell the freak to leave and finish dressing. Our reservations are for eight!"

Severus pointed his wand at the thundering walrus, a curse on his lips. Petunia, however, reacted before he could.

"For once in your life, shut up, Vernon! Freak or not, she's Lily's daughter, and I need to know what's happened to her!"

Vernon Dursley's face flushed purple and his entire body shook with rage. Severus instinctively put himself in front of Petunia, unsure how far the incensed man would go.

Spittle flew from the beefy man's mouth. "She's a dangerous FREAK! Our lives would be better off without her! She should have died this summer! We wouldn't have to put up with the likes of him! Now, make yourself decent and let's go!"

"No."

Severus tensed as Lily's sister stood up to her husband for perhaps the first time. Her voice had wavered when she had told him no, but it was definitely a no. A dangerous silence descended in the living room as Vernon appeared to be on the verge of some sort of fit. He kept glancing at Severus' wand, his mustache twitching in sync with the tic in his left eye.

After almost a minute fraught with palpable tension, Dursley stalked away. The front door slammed behind him with the force of a clap of thunder, and Snape didn't relax until he heard the noise of the car leaving the driveway. Only then did he put away his wand.

"Petunia, if he has—"

She stiffened, but remained remarkably composed. "He hasn't, not once. And, he won't. He's only like that when it comes to magic, and I can't blame him. He didn't know what Lily was until our wedding reception when her freak of a husband started making the champagne bottles pop open on their own. He never expected to have to raise her child. I was lucky to convince him at all."

"Lucky . . . ." he mused with no small degree of irony.

"Yes, lucky," she snapped back, belatedly reacting to everything that had just occurred. "He could have said no, and what would have happened to her then? It's obvious that none of your lot wanted her. Do you think she'd have been better off in one of those nasty orphanages? Do you know what can happen to children there?"

He gritted his teeth in order to remain silent. The temptation to destroy all the pathetic excuses she had made for Rose's treatment over the years was almost too much to bear. But, he needed her cooperation, and antagonizing her was not going to help matters.

"I can well imagine the effect James Potter would have on your husband. I am surprised you allowed him to attend the wedding at all."

"Mother insisted. She said we were all one, big, happy family. She was so sick by then that I didn't have the heart to disagree."

"I'm sorry."

He was sorry. Flora Evans had welcomed a scrawny, neglected, withdrawn boy into her home, and had never once judged him for his lack of proper clothes or manners. When he had unintentionally severed his relationship with Lily after calling her that horrid name, he had lost the one adult who had accepted him unconditionally. That had hurt almost as much as his separation from the girl he adored.

Petunia apparently took his expression of regret as a blanket apology for all of wizard-kind because she sniffed with revulsion before remembering why he had appeared in the first place.

"Why don't I get some tea and we can talk in the dining room. I want to know what happened to Rose, and then I want you gone so Vernon doesn't come back and have a stroke when he finds you here."

Since he didn't think he could stand seeing Dursley again without at least hexing him, he didn't argue. As soon as she sat down with the tea he got straight to the point.

"I take it Dumbledore informed you of who killed Lily and Potter?"

"Voldemort? Yes, he put the details in his letter. Something about him wanting to kill Rose because of some sort of cockamamie prophecy?"

He coughed to cover his snort of laughter. If only the Dark Lord could hear a Muggle refer to him so blandly.

"Indeed. As you must no doubt be aware, he disappeared when he tried to kill Rose. However, one of his closest supporters escaped from Azkaban this summer. Sirius Black is insane, and—"

"Sirius Black? That madman who killed all those people and escaped from jail? That Sirius Black?"

"Sirius Black is a wizard, yes." He hurriedly continued, not wishing to be interrupted again. "As I was trying to say, Black has one obsession. He wishes Rose dead." She gasped at this, but he ignored her outburst. "Because of the threat Black poses, dementors, a creature—"

"I know what dementors are, Severus."

He blinked in surprise, wondering if it had been Lily or Dumbledore who had told her about the dementors.

"Fine. Dementors have been stationed outside the grounds of Hogwarts. Because of Rose's memories of her parents' death (this time, Petunia stifled a sob), she is more susceptible to their negative influence. While playing Quidditch, a large group of dementors was drawn to the field. Rose lost consciousness and fell off her broom. As she fell, she was attacked, most likely by Sirius Black. Her injuries were grave enough to stop her heart. It was only through the use of a potion that she is alive today."

Petunia sat there, her tea untouched. All color had drained from her cheeks. Finally, in voice no louder than a whisper, she asked, "How can I help her?"

It was the opening he had hoped for. "Give me guardianship of Rose—permanently. I can protect her better than you. I can provide a stable, loving home for her. Unlike you, I can teach her the spells she'll need to protect herself. Voldemort will return, Petunia, and when he does, she will be at his mercy unless she is allowed to become the witch she was meant to be."

She nervously tapped the table. "Give her up, Severus? How can you ask me to give her up? She's my niece."

"A niece you housed in a cupboard for the first eleven years of her life, Petunia. I hardly think you can say you have provided her with a loving home."

Her eyes narrowed in anger, but she didn't deny his claim. Instead, she attacked his argument by vehemently attacking him.

"Lily told me, Severus. She told me you were one of Voldemort's followers. It was the day before her wedding, and Mother insisted that we do something together to remind us that we were still sisters. We went to a salon to have our nails done. She started talking about you, about how she regretted what had happened between the two of you, and then she told me that she had heard you had become a Death Eater. She cried so much that we had to leave. She cried, Severus, because you had turned against everything she had ever stood for. Explain to me how you dare ask me to give her only child to you."

Though her tale wounded him deeply, he didn't give her satisfaction by any outward reaction. Instead, he kept his tone even.

"I am not that person anymore, Petunia. I changed because of Lily. I became a spy, reporting on Voldemort's movements and feeding him false information. Everything I have done since then, I have done for her sake, for the sake of her daughter. When I learned of Lily's death, I swore to protect Rose to the exclusion of all else. She would have died this summer without me. Those aren't the actions of a Death Eater, Petunia."

"No, they are not," she admitted quietly. "You've obviously changed. You risked your life to save Rose this summer, and I will be forever grateful, Severus. But, I have changed, too. I now wish that things had been different between Lily and me. How can you ask me to give up the one remaining link to my sister?"

There was an easy answer to that, and he didn't hesitate to use it.

"Has your husband changed? Can he? I think not, Petunia. Rose will never be welcome here so long as Vernon Dursley considers her to be a freak. If you truly loved Lily, if you love your niece, you will acknowledge that Rose cannot live in this house so long as you are married to a hulking lump of a bully who mistreats a child for something she cannot change."

Her face crumpled into a pitiful frown, and he thought for a moment that she would cry. Instead, she brought up another argument.

"What about the blood wards?"

"What, exactly, is your concern?"

"In the letter Dumbledore wrote, he said Rose would be safe so long as she could call my house home."

He drank his tepid tea, giving himself some time to think. He had finally found a crumbling, ancient text that explained the nuances of blood protection. The contents had been illuminating, and his esteem for Lily had only grown after reading what she had done.

"So long as Rose calls your house home, Voldemort cannot touch her here until she reaches her majority, which is seventeen in the wizarding world. If the Dark Lord does rise again, however, Dumbledore has effectively made this her prison. She is safe here, yes, but only here and only for a certain amount of time. The more important magic, a far older magic, was the one that Lily directly bestowed upon Rose by sacrificing herself for her child. Voldemort cannot bear to touch Rose because of Lily's gift of love. This blood protection has already saved her once and it can save her again."

He knew he had convinced her by the way she gripped her teacup.

"How can I give her up, Severus? She'll think I hate her."

"Write her a letter. Explain how you have changed. Tell her the reasons you are giving her up. If she doesn't understand now, she will when she is older. And, perhaps one day, she can forgive you. If you truly care for her, it is the only thing to do."

She sat there for a long time, staring down at the wood grain of the table. At that point in time, Snape truly did not know what she would decide. When she finally looked up, it appeared as if she had aged ten years in a matter of moments. He had never seen the proud woman so regrettful or defeated.

"Do we need an attorney to draw up the papers?"

He pulled out a very long parchment. "These are the papers necessary for the change of guardianship in the wizarding community. Since Rose is a witch, she is bound by wizarding law. You may, if you wish, have similar papers drawn up, although I hardly think it necessary."

Hesitantly, she took the scroll out of his hand. It was very long, but she read every last inch.

"You've made this irrevocable."

"I have. At some point, Professor Dumbledore will discover that Rose is no longer under your protection. When that happens, he will attempt to persuade you that you have made a mistake. I took the precaution of making sure he cannot unduly influence you and compel you to change your mind."

"Do we need witnesses?"

"The parchment is charmed so that a person may not forge another's signature and the signature will not appear if it has been coerced. There is no need for witnesses."

She sat at the polished mahogany table, again pondering her choices. Abruptly, she stood and marched upstairs, returning a few minutes later with a pen and piece of stationery. Snape watched impatiently as she scribbled furiously on the blank piece of paper. He wanted to hurry her along, but didn't dare chance it lest she change her mind.

Finally, she put the letter to the side and took the parchment. Her signature was shaky, more of a scrawl than an autograph, but it was legible enough. Once he had added his name, he carefully rolled up the scroll and slid it into his pocket.

"Thank you, Petunia."

She began to furiously clean the water rings off the table. "Just, let me know how she is from time to time."

"Of course."

Snape stood to leave and she saw him to the door. He could tell she already felt ambivalent about her decision, but he no longer cared. He had accomplished his goal. Pausing on the threshold, he turned to give her a severe warning.

"You have assured me that Vernon has never touched you in anger, and I am pleased to hear it. However, if I ever discover that he showed less restraint towards Rose, he will wish he had never been born."

She nodded distractedly. His warning emboldened her to ask the question that had plagued her for almost four months.

"So, you were the one who drove Piers to suicide?"

"I was not," he replied gravely, peering deeply into her eyes. "However, I cannot pretend to be saddened by the news. Perhaps he simply could no longer live with the knowledge of what he had done."

"Perhaps." But she didn't sound convinced.

He left in the midst of an awkward silence, gravely troubled. Having employed legilimency, he knew that Rose's tormentor had not merely committed suicide, but had somehow managed to drown himself in a puddle near the tree where he had brutalized Rose. The Muggle police might be stupid enough to rule it a suicide, but no doubt magic had contributed to if not directly caused his death.

As far as he knew, only Albus, Minerva, Filius, Lupin, Molly and Arthur knew the truth of what had happened that summer's night. One of them had managed what he had dared not and had taken justice into his or her own hands. But who could have been reckless enough to chance it? Apparating to the gates of Hogwarts, he didn't know whether to thank the perpetrator or curse him.


	20. Gratitude

Author's Notes - As tempting as it was, I decided not to jump to Christmas. There were a few plot points that needed telling before the castle emptied of students. As this story veers more and more into AU, I am keeping everyone in character as much as I can, although Severus Snape will obviously grow as he cares for Rose. Hope you continue to enjoy it. Thank you to everyone who is reading, and thank you to wi11ow, Coral Grace and FleurSuoh for taking the time to review.

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><p>Returning to the castle, Snape secured Rose's guardianship papers in a charmed, locked box located next to his bed. Then, he proceeded to eat the hearty stew the house elves had left for dinner. After a cup of coffee, he began to read his seventh year students' essays on the Draught of Living Death, but time and time again, he found his mind wandering. Finally, he put the parchments down and allowed himself to bask in his victory. At some point, he drifted off to sleep.<p>

_James Potter, dressed in Gryffindor Quidditch robes, flew on an old fashioned broom around the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. Severus watched him chase after the golden snitch with growing trepidation, his eyes darting all around as he tried to anticipate the Marauder's attack. But careful observation revealed Potter to be alone. Realizing that, Snape immediately turned around and attempted to return to the castle, but his retreat was blocked by a black void. _

_As he had tried to leave, Potter must have noticed him, because he dove straight towards Severus. Just before he was forced to jump to the side, his nemesis stopped short. As usual, there was an annoying smile on Potter's face, which made the Slytherin tense. Readying his wand, he was surprised when Potter did nothing more threatening than hop off his broom._

"_Severus Snape! I want a word with you."_

_Only then did he see that the smile on Potter's face was warm and friendly. Something was definitely off, and he took a moment to study the man more closely. That's when it hit him; Potter was a man—a young man to be sure—but he was not the arrogant boy who had tormented him at school. There was a maturity and a tranquility about him that made Snape very, very wary. He had a suspicion about who this Potter was, and he no more wished to speak to him than the nightmare of a bully who had made his teenaged years a living hell._

"_I, however, have no desire to speak to you," he answered bitterly, putting as much dignity in his reply as he could muster._

_Potter had the audacity to laugh. "No, I didn't think you would."_

_"Then release me from this nightmare."_

"_You don't want me to do that," he warned lightheartedly. "Lily's on her way. I just hijacked her dream for a moment."_

_That sounded like typical Potter, which both infuriated and reassured the Potions Master. Resigned, he ground out, "Then say what you have to say so you may leave."_

_The man had the gall to clap him on the back, his smile widening into a grin. "Don't worry, Snape, you'll still be able to hate me once this is over. I don't expect you to forgive me for what I did to you at Hogwarts. My treatment of you was childish and wrong, but I can't exactly atone for it now, can I?"_

_Severus' gut clenched. Was Potter actually apologizing or merely reminding him that he was the reason the man had died? He readied himself for condemnation, but it never came. Potter's sunny smile abruptly disappeared, however, and he grew quiet and somber._

"_I'm not here to drag up the past, Snape. Thank you for saving Rose's life. Thank you for caring about what happens to her, and thank you for seeing past the fact that she is my daughter."_

"_She should have been mine," he waspishly professed, his acrimony equally divided between Potter and himself. Immediately, he realized what he had said and to whom he had said it. Mortified, his temper flared in a defensive response, and he sneered disdainfully at the ghost before him._

_Potter watched his transformation with far too much compassion. There was no censure or derision in his eyes, and his expression turned wistful. _

"_She's yours now."_

_The blackness rapidly engulfed the Quidditch Pitch and the man he had hated for so many years faded from view. Before he could absorb what had happened, Severus found himself on the porch of the Evans' home, the tantalizing smell of roast wafting through the open kitchen window. Before he could knock on the door, he heard pounding on the steps behind him. Just as he turned to face her, Lily flung her arms around him, squeezing him in an exuberant hug._

"_Sev! I can't believe you did it! Thank you! Thank you!"_

_For one, perfect moment, he could pretend that she was real, that they were still at Hogwarts and he had never made the mistakes that had driven her into Potter's arms. And then, the truth of the dream came crashing down around him. She was thanking him for taking her orphaned daughter away from her neglectful, abusive relatives, a home Rose would have never needed if he hadn't become a Death Eater._

_Lily kissed him tenderly on the cheek. "None of that, Sev, not after everything you've done."_

"_I have only done what anyone else would have done, and it shouldn't have been necessary in the first place."_

"_Hardly anyone else," she replied, her temper starting to rise. "Everyone else is too much in awe of Albus to question his methods. Even Molly and Arthur, who knew something was wrong, didn't think to go against him."_

_He felt compelled to defend the Weasleys. "They are with me now."_

_His answer seemed to appease her. In fact, it amused her greatly. "So I have seen. Poor, Sev, I'm afraid you'll have to get used to Molly's mollycoddling. She'll try to mother you as much as my mother did."_

_The scent of roast suddenly made his mouth water, and he peered curiously at the kitchen window. Although open, he could not see into the house._

"_Is she . . . ?"_

"_She's happy," Lily hastily reassured him, glancing at the kitchen window as well. "But, you can't see her, not now at least, and hopefully not for a long time. I'm only able to reach you because of my sacrifice and your vow to protect Rose."_

"_Potter needed no such circumstances," he sullenly replied, his desire to see Mrs. Evans and beg her forgiveness absolute._

_Lily smiled in fond exasperation. "James isn't really one for the rules. He found a loophole." Seeing his look of horror, she stifled her grin to quickly reassure him. "It's a onetime occurrence. I promise. He desired to thank you as well, whether you wished it or not."_

_It was on the tip of his tongue to say he had not appreciated the gesture, but he knew that to be a lie. He would never like Potter, but the man's endorsement of his actions had been oddly reassuring, if a trifle disappointing. Potter, he now knew, would not be turning in his grave._

"_I am relieved to hear it."_

_Almost hesitantly, she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the lips. It was sweet and caring and so much less than what he desired, but he knew it to be a precious gift. He refused to ruin it by trying to turn it into something more._

_When she pulled back, her eyes were filled with tears._

"_Thank you, Sev. I know you'll take good care of her."_

_Something in her voice warned him that this was goodbye. "Will I see you again?"_

_She carefully wiped a stray tear from her face. "Someday, but hopefully not for a long while. Live well, Severus."_

"_Lily, I—" _

He woke to find himself alone in his rooms, a slight tingling of his lips the only proof that his dream had been anything out of the ordinary.

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><p>Severus kept his permanent guardianship of Rose secret, even from Rose herself. He wanted to surprise her at Christmas with a gift that would outshine the trinkets Molly had suggested he purchase for her. On the day of the SlytherinGryffindor rematch, however, he began to question the wisdom of his decision.

As students dressed warmly in their respective House hats, scarves and gloves excitedly poured outside to make their way to the Quidditch pitch, Rose stayed near the doors of the Great Hall, her expression forlorn. Several friends, including Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, offered to stay with her, but she was resolute in her misery and insisted they go without her.

He didn't approach until the Hall had emptied of everyone but a few stragglers. When she saw him, she pasted on a weak smile, but it was a pathetic attempt at deceit, and he easily ignored it.

"Sulking does not become you, Miss Potter."

His insult had the desired effect; fire sparked in her eyes. "I'm not sulking! I'm staying inside the castle just like I was told! I thought you might appreciate me following the rules for a change!"

He felt the ridiculous urge to chuckle. She had used his own words as a weapon against him, although he had not derided her in public in that manner since the end of her second year. If he had been as thin-skinned as many of the students thought, perhaps it might have worked. However, he had no intention of arguing with her.

"Did Madame Pomfrey inform you that you could not attend the match as a spectator?"

She deflated as quickly as a balloon stuck with a pin. "No, Professor Dumbledore did. He said it was for my safety."

"Ah."

The new restrictions were likely his fault. Before Rose had left the infirmary, he had been forced to inform Poppy that the girl's cardiac arrest had been caused by stunners rather than the influence of so many dementors. Her heart could have been permanently affected by the strain, and he didn't have the expertise to determine if there had been any lasting damage. No doubt the school matron had been obliged to tell the Headmaster of the attack even though she had found Rose's heart to be healthy.

However, he thought Albus' precautions overzealous. Rose didn't need any additional reasons to mope. It was bad enough that she was grounded from flying and off the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"You have five minutes to dress for the weather and return to the Entrance Hall."

She looked at him like he had sprouted a second head. "Huh?"

He scowled at her slack-jawed inelegance. "Five minutes, Miss Potter, or I leave for the match without you."

Hope warred with disbelief. "You're letting me go?"

"You may accompany me to the stands reserved for staff. If the teachers here cannot protect you, then no place is safe. Now, I believe you have four minutes."

As she raced towards the Gryffindor dormitories to fetch her cloak, he concluded her smile was worth any unpleasantness he might face for his actions.

He needn't have worried. Dumbledore was not in attendance, having been called to an emergency Board of Governor's meeting. The events surrounding the original Slytherin/Gryffindor match had been leaked to the Daily Prophet, and worried parents had been sending in Howlers for the past week.

The Hogwarts staff in the stands warmly welcomed Rose, and she spent much of the game with Hagrid doing her best to cheer the Gryffindors to victory. When Draco got the snitch, however, she cheered as loudly as any Slytherin, excitedly explaining to Severus how impressive a catch his third year student had made.

In her enthusiasm, she rapidly outpaced him as they left the stands, and he wasn't surprised to see her heading in the direction of her former teammates, no doubt to commiserate with them on the loss. Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley soon caught sight of her and raced to catch up.

After he had praised his Slytherins, McGonagall walked over to offer him her own congratulations. The usually imposing witch looked unusually carefree in her long red and gold scarf.

"That was very decent of you, Severus. I wish I had thought to take Rose. Albus is going to have a fit, though."

"Let him. Petunia signed the papers."

He was pleased to see that his bland announcement robbed Minerva of speech. His compatriot anxiously glanced around to ensure they would not be overheard before finally offering her compliments.

"Well, it's about time. I told Albus exactly what kind of Muggles they were, but he insisted upon giving her to them. I'm glad she's finally free."

"Hardly free," he replied, his hawk like eyes once again focusing on his ward, who had run at least fifty yards ahead. "Until Black is captured, she will be little more than a prisoner. The Headmaster forbade her to step foot on the grounds, Minerva. Can you imagine the effect of such constraints on a child? Worse, her prison is not secure. That madman gained access once; he can do so again."

Following his gaze, McGonagall watched as the Gryffindor team walked towards them. Oliver Wood spoke earnestly to Rose, who appeared to be quite troubled by his speech. Her hands were balled into fists, and her nose was scrunched up like she was about to cry. Fred said something to the Quidditch Captain which made him stalk off towards the lockers. Then, both twins enveloped the girl in a comforting hug as Ronald Weasley looked on in obvious confusion.

Minerva's eyebrows rose at the display. "Well, she could do worse than one of the Weasley twins. Either would be far more suitable than a Malfoy, at least."

"She's thirteen, Minerva."

"The older witch gave him a look of pity, although her lips quirked into a knowing grin. "Of course, Severus."

He ignored his colleague's teasing. His decision to make Rose his permanent ward had not been made lightly, and he had taken into account all the necessary drama raising a teenaged witch would entail. Besides, he planned on shamelessly begging Minerva or Molly for assistance whenever the need arose.

Rose soon trotted over to him, and they both bid the Head of Gryffindor House a good day. Walking beside him towards the castle, she thanked him so profusely and repeatedly for letting her attend the game that he began to feel guilty for keeping the papers in his room a secret. So as not to spoil his Christmas surprise, he invented a tale of essays which needed grading and left her with Granger and the Weasley girl, both of whom erupted into fits of giggles as he walked away.

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><p>In general, Snape despised the days before the Christmas holidays, and this year was no exception. His students were invariably distracted, and he had to be more vigilant than usual lest one of them blow up a cauldron and turn a vacation into a convalescence. Worse, there were sprigs of mistletoe hanging haphazardly from the ceilings like dangling grenades.<p>

He was thankful that such nonsense had been outlawed in the hallways and classrooms, but the staff room held no such reprieve. He had been forced to kiss Professor Sinestra in front of the entire staff the day before. Dumbledore's eyes had twinkled merrily in amusement, and McGonagall had clapped, but he had found the entire incident humiliating.

The day before the vast majority of students were to leave for home, he prudently had planned a theoretical lesson on the properties of Pepperup Potion for his third year class. He should have known it would be impossible to conduct an ordinary lecture when the students were so excited.

Before he could say a word about the Pepperup Potion, Millicent Bulstrode raised her hand. He was intrigued; she had rarely asked a question in his class.

"Yes, Miss Bulstrode?"

"Professor Snape, why would someone smell flowers in a love potion when the person they love doesn't wear floral perfume?"

"Miss Bulstrode, I believe it is written on the board that we are discussing Pepperup Potions today."

Pansy Parkinson suddenly chimed in. "Please, Professor. We covered Pepperup Potions weeks ago, and it's the last day before Christmas hols, won't you please answer Millie's question?"

Most of the girls in the class, including Rose, were keenly interested in the subject, although many of the boys, especially Ronald and Draco, had expressions of utter disgust at the thought. Frankly bored of Pepperup Potions himself, he chose to indulge the girls in the class.

"I assume you are referring to Amortentia, a potion that is covered in sixth year N.E.W.T. level classes. When consumed, Amortentia creates a powerful obsession between the one who consumed it and the one who gave it to him or her. However, it is unique in that its aroma is different for everyone who smells it. And, you are incorrect in believing that it must match a loved one's perfume or cologne. The aroma of Amortentia is much more subtle than that."

Granger's hand immediately shot into the air. "How so, Professor?"

"I have heard of outdoor enthusiasts smelling the aroma of wet grass, or a young child smelling his father's pipe. The aroma imitates that which makes one content or happy. It does not necessarily reflect a romantic love, although it often does. So in answer to Miss Bulstrode's original question, perhaps the person who smelled flowers is most comfortable in a garden, or there is a chance that he does not love his girlfriend quite as much as she supposes."

Multiple hands shot up in the air, and he spent the rest of the class discussing love potions in general and Amortentia in particular. As the bell rang, he called out a warning.

"Might I remind you that love potions tamper with one's free will, and skirt very close to the Dark Arts. They have the power to create infatuation or obsession, but those emotions are fleeting once the effect of the potion wears off. More importantly, the use of Amortentia can be dangerous, and if I discover that anyone has been attempting to brew it, I will recommend to the Headmaster that the perpetrator be expelled. Do I make myself clear?"

There was a chorus of "Yes, Professor Snape," as the class filed noisily out into the hall. He quickly put the topic out of his mind as he entered his private potions lab to check on the Wolfsbane Potion he was currently brewing. The moon would become full on Christmas Eve, and he didn't want Rose's holiday ruined by the presence of a savage werewolf chasing them through the hallways. He was determined to give the child the best Christmas she had ever had.


	21. Christmas Presents

Author's Notes - Hi! Here's the promised Christmas chapter, although I was forced to cut it in half, so you can read the rest of it the next time I post. I'm afraid Severus' bubble is about to be popped as he fears his gifts are overshadowed by another. Before that, though, he has to endure pure torture in the guise of lunch. I'm sorry; I couldn't resist. Thanks to everyone who is reading and enjoying this story, and thanks to A Very Small Prophet and FleurSuoh who took the time to review. Spring break has arrived deep in the heart of Texas, so I will be entertaining my children or they will die of boredom. So, fair warning, I may not be able to update twice in the upcoming week. Hope you enjoy!

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><p>As most of the students departed for home, Severus expected to find Rose moping around the Entrance Hall. Instead, she was gleefully making snow angels outside. Wordlessly, he enchanted one of the indentations to rise upwards; it flapped gracefully like a swan until it was directly over the child's head. Then, the magic holding the shape together burst, showering her with fine, powdery snow.<p>

She jumped up, laughing with delight. "That was brilliant, Professor! Can you teach me how to do that sometime?"

"So long as I have your word that you won't use it against me, I don't see why not. It can be a very useful charm to know during a snowball fight."

Rose enthusiastically agreed. "Yeah, you'd definitely have to be a Slytherin to think something that beautiful could be used as a weapon against you."

"Indeed."

He tried to puzzle out if she had intended the comment as a compliment or an insult before simply taking it as a statement of fact. Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley soon joined Rose outside, and Snape left with the reminder that Rose was to accompany him to Hogsmeade the next morning.

He had almost reached the sanctuary of his quarters when Dumbledore called out behind him. The great wizard that day wore navy robes bedecked with glittery, silver stars, and Snape wondered what outlandish outfit the man was saving for Christmas day. He half-expected Albus to show up in the Great Hall wearing scarlet robes adorned with live holly.

"Severus, I was hoping you could join me in my office."

"Of course, Headmaster."

His heart hammered in his chest, and he forgot all about the wizard's state of dress. He would have to inform Dumbledore of his guardianship at some point. Perhaps now, when the man was awash in the spirit of Christmas, would be the perfect time.

The Headmaster's office was, as always, as eclectic as he. After politely refusing green and red Muggle ribbon candy, Severus idly perused the odd collection of magical paraphernalia while his host ordered tea. His curiosity peaked when he saw that the cabinet which housed Albus' ornate, antique pensieve was open.

"Troubling thoughts?" he mused aloud, nodding to the pensieve.

"More troubling by the day, I'm afraid. I was reviewing some of my memories of the time when Sirius Black was a student here. I had hoped to find some indication as to how he breached Hogwarts defenses."

Under normal circumstances, he might have suggested putting a few drops of Veritaserum in Lupin's drink to discover if the wolf knew how Black had gained access. Unfortunately, now that Lupin was privy to some of Rose's secrets, the option was out of the question.

"A secret entrance?"

"I have considered such. However, that would not account for his ability to get past the dementors."

Abruptly, Dumbledore closed the cabinet. "I called you into my office because there are more pressing matters to discuss than Sirius Black. The charm I placed on Rose as an infant has failed. I do not know how long ago this occurred. I spoke to Miss Potter in the Great Hall at breakfast this morning, and her aura no longer bore the mark of the blood protection her aunt sealed by taking her in.

Severus nearly choked on his tea, but Albus took his reaction as nothing more than surprise and dismay.

"Have you spoken to the woman?"

The imposing wizard grew troubled, his mouth drawn into a frown. Once again, he appeared old and tired. "I immediately went to Petunia's home. I'm afraid she was quite frightened of me. She refused to open the door, explaining that wizards were no longer welcome in her home."

"Could you not have forced your way in?" he asked with a hint of disdain.

Petunia had been smart and he had been exceedingly lucky. If Dumbledore was determined to discover what had happened, then all he would have to do is meet Petunia's gaze. Everything Severus had worked for would be exposed in a way guaranteed to antagonize the Headmaster.

Albus answered with an air of long suffering patience. "It is not my intent to frighten her, Severus, and I'm afraid the damage is already done. It is not a spell that can be recast. For whatever reason, Petunia Dursley no longer considers Privet Drive to be Rose's home. That is most regretful."

"What will you do with the girl come summer? A Muggle orphanage seems rather harsh under the circumstances."

It was clear that the Headmaster had some ideas, but they were not ideas he was willing to share.

"Thankfully, we need not worry about that for a few months. Although, I do not believe an orphanage would be the best place for Rose. The implications of such are somewhat troubling."

He didn't have to ask what the Headmaster meant. Tom Riddle had grown up in a Muggle orphanage, had, in fact, spent the summers there during his tenure at Hogwarts. It was bad enough that Rose was a parseltongue and shared a wand core with the Dark Lord. To send her to an orphanage would shadow Voldemort's childhood a bit too much.

There were still some in the wizarding community who believed that Rose could very well grow up to be the next Dark Lord. Those people were sadly misinformed, but it would be prudent not to give any of them another excuse to scrutinize the child. While few were left who knew of Voldemort's past, there were enough to cause trouble.

Luckily for everyone involved, Rose Potter had a home. Spinner's End was in desperate need of a facelift, but it was now her home nonetheless. This was not the time, however, to inform his mentor that he had taken matters into his own hands and caused the charm to fail. He had seen the great wizard angry, and didn't want to experience such cold, icy rage again. It would be much better to wait for a more opportune time, a time when Albus could more readily accept the advantages of the situation.

"More than troubling," Severus agreed, making a show of brushing a piece of lint off his robes. "However, I'm sure you'll come to an equitable solution long before the end of school."

The older wizard chuckled, his eye sparkling with amusement and pride. "My dear boy, if everyone had such faith in my abilities, my life would only be half as troublesome. Rest assured that I will inform you of my decision before anyone else. I know how much her safety concerns you."

With that, Albus changed the topic, asking Severus if he had any Christmas plans, although the Potions Master had never once during his tenure spent Christmas outside Hogwarts. He did learn that only six students and eight members of staff had chosen to remain at the castle. Besides the three Gryffindors, there were two first years, both from Ravenclaw, and Andrian Pucey, a fifth year from his own House.

Mr. Pucey had always been a troublemaker, and Snape was sure he must have an ulterior motive for missing his family's annual winter ball. He privately vowed to check up on the teen later in the day.

"And, will you be spending all of the holiday at Hogwarts, Albus?"

"I'll be here for Christmas. However, the Wizengamot is meeting in special session tomorrow. Enough complaints have reached their ears about the presence of dementors here at Hogwarts that they have decided to rule on the legality of it."

This got Snape's attention; he still didn't think the dementors should be anywhere near the school.

"Any idea of which way the Court is leaning?"

Airily, Dumbledore brushed off the entire subject. "Lucius strongly believes that the dementors are a necessary evil. He and the Board of Governors will sway the Court their way, and I will not fight a battle I am guaranteed to lose."

"Lucius only believes the dementors are necessary to torment Rose. I am surprised he would put his spite ahead of his own son's welfare."

"It is young Mr. Malfoy's injuries that will lend credence to his testimony, Severus. They will be expecting him to argue for the dementors' banishment. When he doesn't, it will make his testimony doubly influential."

He was right, but Snape didn't have to like it. The presence of the dementors near the school was a tragedy waiting to happen. He wished Dumbledore for once would fight a losing battle. The old man constantly underestimated his own influence, preferring to work behind the scenes and only expose himself when he was sure to prevail. It was a very annoying trait in a Gryffindor.

Severus bid him a safe journey several minutes later. An hour after he had set out for them, he finally returned to his quarters. He spent much of the afternoon adding the necessary ingredients to the Wolfsbane Potion. Skipping dinner, he spent the rest of the evening wrapping the few presents he had bought for Rose as well as relaxing with a well-worn copy of The Complete Sherlock Holmes.

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><p>When he remembered, he sought out Mr. Pucey, who spun an elaborate tale about a recent ex-girlfriend who would be attending his parents' ball and his utmost desire to avoid her at all costs. The lie was much too elaborate. While he knew that teenaged boys could embroil themselves in drama almost as easily as teenaged girls, Adrian Pucey was too quick to share his tale. He also answered his professor's questions far too easily, but Snape couldn't find that he had done anything untoward, and temporarily allowed him to keep his secrets. If it proved necessary, he could easily pull the truth from his lackluster student.<p>

He might have read the journal late into the night, but Minerva wished to arrive in Hogsmeade as the shops opened to avoid the afternoon crowds. He certainly couldn't fault her logic. He hated crowds and avoided the company of strangers whenever possible.

Hogsmeade was even more crowded than he could have imagined. Days before Christmas, it seemed all of wizarding Britain had chosen to do their last minute shopping in the tiny village. Gladrags was a nightmare, although Minerva took charge in her usual no nonsense way and had the child outfitted in proper wizarding attire within an hour of walking through the door. He smirked at Rose's new cloak; it was a deep, rich Slytherin green, although even Minerva had been forced to admit it was very becoming on her.

If Severus had thought the shopping trip would only entail a visit to Gladrags, he was soon disabused of that notion. Knowing it was the child's first visit to Hogsmeade, Minerva insisted on taking Rose to every major shop in the village. Observing his ward, the Potions Master was heartened to see that she took such great pleasure in purchasing small gifts for her friends. For Hermione, she bought a self-locking journal, and for Ron she purchased a smattering of bright fireworks from Zonko's.

"Those are to be used outside, Miss Potter."

As the clerk wrapped her items, she shot him a mischievous grin. "I promise Ron won't use them anywhere near your classroom, Professor."

He cast his eyes heavenward, as if asking for divine guidance. Even his usually stern colleague found herself smiling at his antics.

"Now, Severus, a few fireworks never hurt anyone. I imagine Mr. Weasley will use them on New Year's Eve."

"I suppose I should be thankful that the fireworks are for Ronald rather than Fred or George."

"Not to worry, Professor, I think they have their own supply!"

McGonagall looked a little green at that bit of news. The Potions Master was suddenly very grateful that the twins had been sorted into Gryffindor rather than Slytherin. Let Minerva deal with their rule breaking. So far, their pranks had been very benign, although unusually clever. He dreaded to think what they might have come up with had they lived under the influence of some of the older Slytherins.

Minerva soon dragged him to Honeydukes, although Rose needed no such inducement. Her friends and Housemates had obviously described the shop for she went straight to the cockroach clusters and blood pops, pointing at them excitedly.

"Can you believe it, Professor? Wizards eat some weird stuff. And, they call Muggles strange."

He had to agree, although he did explain that the blood pops were mainly consumed by vampires.

"Vampires can shop at Honeydukes?"

"Has Lupin not covered the subject in his class? Vampires who register with the Ministry may go where they please."

Her eyes grew huge, and he was poignantly reminded of a similar conversation he had had with Lily in this very shop.

"How does signing a piece of paper make them any less dangerous, Professor?"

"They do not sign the paper, Miss Potter. They bite it. Each vampire's bite is unique. Should a Muggle or wizard be killed in such a manner, the vampire incriminates himself. The aurors hunt the guilty and they are summarily killed."

"Wish they'd do that to Sirius Black," she mumbled, pretending to study a display of expanding bubblegum.

He was shocked at her thirst for vengeance, although considering how close Black had come to killing her, perhaps it was not so surprising.

"Do you truly wish that?"

For once, he was glad that the shop was crowded and noisy. No one paid them the slightest bit of attention.

"Yes," she answered vehemently, her voice colder than he had ever heard it before. "Do you know what Voldemort told Mum? That he would let her live if she would stand aside. He wanted me, Professor Snape, not her. But, she wouldn't listen. It's my fault she's dead, but it's Black's fault he found her in the first place."

The guilt hit him like a bludger. Years ago, he might have rejoiced at the thought of the Dark Lord sparing Lily and never once considered the cost. Yet, in front of him stood the child he had been so willing to sacrifice without a second's consideration. She was brave and decent and had suffered more than any child ought. Now, he couldn't imagine life without her.

"Lily's death was in no way your fault, Rose. Your mother loved you very much. She died protecting you, just like any mother would."

"Black still needs to be punished," she grumbled, looking pointedly at the floor.

He didn't press the issue. She had said punished, and he took it for a positive sign. Not that he wouldn't kill Black given the chance, but she was far too young to walk such a dark path.

"Would you care to look at some of the more palatable sweets in the shop, or shall we let Minerva make her purchases in peace? I believe she has enough sugar in her sack to rot an army of goblin's teeth."

"She told me it's a gift for Professor Dumbledore. And, I wouldn't mind finding some more of that chocolate Draco gave me. The flavor was different, but really good."

"Most likely that was your first time eating dark chocolate. It has more cocoa and less sugar and milk than regular chocolate. I quite like it myself."

"Do you?"

He could see her mind at work and had to mask his smile. So, she intended to give him a Christmas gift. It was a good thing that he already had several for her wrapped in his quarters.

"I do. In fact, I can show you the case where all the dark chocolate is kept. Most of it has no need for flashy charms like the chocolate frogs. It is the flavor which entices the truly discerning."

They sampled a few pieces before Rose decided that she preferred dark chocolate when it was combined with fruits, such as bits of dried cherry or tangy orange peel, or nuts, like hazelnut and almonds. His favorite was a chocolate so dark that it was bitter, plain so the richness of the cocoa took center stage.

When she unsubtly suggested that he help Professor McGonagall hold her ever growing sack of candy, he graciously took the hint and disappeared from her view long enough for her to purchase a modest box of chocolate. After a few minutes, she reappeared by his side with a package in hand, a pleased grin on her face.

Once Minerva's purchases had been made, they visited Scrivenshafts Quill shop, where Rose bought a jar of non-smearing ink along with an ever sharpening quill. Snape fought the urge to applaud; while she was gifted in potions, he often had to mark down her essays for illegibility. Severus discreetly paid for a special ink he had ordered with Minerva in mind. It wrote in red and gold plaid, a perfect gift for a Gryffindor. Although it was impractical for everyday use, the spry witch had a playful streak hidden under her stern exterior, and he knew she would appreciate it.

Rose remarked that she would like to purchase a large tin of biscuits for Hagrid. Severus took her to a small shop which sold gourmet treats while McGonagall visited Dervish and Banges. The foods store was almost empty, and he basked in the quiet while Rose vacillated between buying Hagrid a large tin of ginger snaps or a box of mincemeat pies. In the end she bought both.

"You wouldn't have an ulterior motive for your gift, would you, Miss Potter?"

His gentle teasing brought a blush of embarrassment to her cheeks.

"Well, the rock cakes he serves are somewhat hard to chew, Professor."

Smiling, Snape added a large Christmas pudding and an assortment of tea to her pile.

"It can be from both of us. I would hate for Fang to grow fat from eating our castoffs."

In extremely good spirits, they rejoined McGonagall, who stood waiting for them outside the Three Broomsticks.

"There's not room to stand inside, Severus. I think we'll have to take lunch at Madame Puddifoot's. I noticed the tea shop was practically deserted."

Was she having a joke at his expense? Of course Madame Puddifoot's was empty. Lovesick teenagers and groups of giggling, vapid girls were the only ones to patronize the eatery. Now that the students were gone for the holidays, he was surprised it was open for business. Scanning her face, he realized with a sick sense of dread that she was entirely serious.

"What about the Hog's Head?"

"Closed, Aberforth took off for the holidays without a word of explanation. I hope he isn't in trouble again."

Well, that ended all hopes of pursuing Dumbledore's mistaken use of the name Ariana, at least for the time being. Worse, the prospect of darkening the door of Madame Puddifoot's was suddenly very real.

"Minerva . . . ."

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Severus Snape, are you whinging? Don't tell me after all the things you've done that you are frightened to walk into a tea shop! I promise that you will survive the encounter with your reputation intact. We won't tell anyone that the dour Potions Master was seen eating in Madame Puddifoot's, will we Rose?"

"No, ma'am," she replied, obviously puzzled by his reaction.

With a heavy sigh of defeat, he allowed the insistent witch to pull him inside. It was as bad as he had feared; the décor was frilly and gauche; the chairs were barely big enough for him to sit upon; and the proprietor fawned over him excessively. Even Rose appeared a bit taken aback by the atmosphere, although Minerva staunchly ignored the trappings of the restaurant and quickly ordered them an assortment of sandwiches and cakes for lunch.

The food was actually quite good, but he was constantly glancing towards the windows to make sure no acquaintance passed by. Minerva took an inordinate amount of time to eat, and Madame Puddifoot herself kept refilling his tea to the point that every time she did, Rose coughed to cover her giggles. The minutes dragged as if he were under the Cruciatus Curse, but eventually they did leave.

Returning to the castle, they split up to take care of last minute wrapping. Rose later showed her friends the spell to make snow angels fly, and they spent most of the afternoon pelting each other with snow. Severus finished the Wolfsbane Potion and checked and rechecked that he had everything he needed to make Rose's Christmas the best she had ever had.

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><p>The next day, Christmas Eve, was fraught with anticipation, and he was tempted several times to take Rose aside and show her the papers that were guaranteed to give her the happy memory she needed for her patronus. With some difficulty, he refrained, telling her instead that he would have a special surprise for her on Christmas Day. He went to bed that night looking forward to Christmas in a way he never had before.<p>

Dressed impeccably in stylish black and green robes, Severus presented himself in the Great Hall as dawn began to break. He used the house elves to send the hair ribbons, coin purse and mirror that Molly had suggested he buy to the foot of Rose's bed so she could have something to open from him when she woke. However, he had three very special presents hidden in his robes, and he couldn't wait until she came down to breakfast to give them to her.

Breakfast came and went, however, and she didn't appear. Only belatedly did he remember that breakfast on Christmas Day was served in the Common Rooms. Feeling only slightly foolish, he summoned the Sherlock Holmes novel he was currently reading and sat to wait patiently for her appearance.

Hours later, he heard the three Gryffindors noisily approach the Great Hall. The expression on Hermione's face instantly told him that she was troubled by something, but Rose and the Weasley boy were in high spirits. In fact, he couldn't remember seeing Rose so happy. Curious, he greeted them in the Entrance Hall.

"Look, Professor! I can do it now!" Exuberantly, Rose waved her wand, practically shouting with joy. "_Expecto Patronum_!"

As her doe patronus gamboled about the hall, she threw her arms around him in an exuberant hug. "Thank you! I never expected a gift like that!"

Flummoxed, he tried to puzzle out to which gift she was referring, hardly realizing the shape her patronus had taken. Unexpectedly, it was Ronald Weasley who clarified the situation for him.

"Yeah, Proffessor! Wouldn't think you had it in you, but I reckon a Firebolt's about the best present there is!"

He froze. Minerva had given the child a Firebolt? What had the witch been thinking? His stomach churned with jealousy. How was he supposed to compete with that? In an instant, his Christmas was ruined.


	22. The Best Christmas Ever

Author's Notes - I'm glad I was able to update today. Spring Break has been nice and relaxing. Here's the next chapter. It's as fluffy as cotton candy, but what do you expect at Christmas? Hope you enjoy! A special thanks to everyone who's put this story on alert or favorite and thank you to FleurSuoh and Njoki for the lovely reviews.

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><p><em>Severus froze. Minerva had given the child a Firebolt? What had the witch been thinking? His stomach churned with jealousy; how was he supposed to compete with that? In that instant, his Christmas was ruined.<em>

As soon as those thoughts popped into his head, he knew his logic to be questionable. He respected and liked, nay, cared for, the stern Gryffindor, but McGonagall was a Scot through and through. While she might have replaced Rose's broom, she would have never purchased something as expensive and flashy as a Firebolt.

His expression darkened as he interrogated his ward. "There was no card included with the gift?"

Uncertainly, she shook her head, obviously sensing his change in demeanor. Miss Granger began to nervously rub her hands together, hissing at Mr. Weasley. "I told you he would have included a card!"

Rose paled, understanding as quickly as Hermione. "You . . . you didn't send it, Professor? But, I thought you had a surprise for me."

A surprise which no doubt would be a small consolation for the loss of a Firebolt. Considering who had most likely sent it to her, it was all he could do not to burst into Gryffindor Tower and blast it to bits. Lucky for her, his intermittent need for his cane precluded such hasty action.

Without responding to Rose, he cast his own Patronus. "Go to Minerva McGonagall. Ask her to meet me as quickly as possible in the Entrance Hall."

As the doe Patronus sprinted away, Ron's eyes went huge. "Hey, you two have the same Patronus!

Understandably upset, Rose snapped at her friend. "Of course we do, Ron. He taught me the spell!"

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, took one look at her Potions Professor, and snapped her jaw shut. Severus was astonished and heartened by her display of discretion. Though a know-it-all, she seemed to know when to keep her mouth shut.

The Head of Gryffindor's House arrived a few minutes later, putting an end to the awkward silence that had descended over the group. She wore an ankle length plaid skirt in red and green along with a very festive and unusually frilly white shirt. A matching wool shawl completed her dress, and Snape reminded himself to compliment her on her outfit once the sordid business was over.

"Severus! What's wrong? Has Black breached the defenses once again?"

He steeled himself to so cruelly disappoint Rose, but for her safety, it had to be done.

"In a manner of speaking. Miss Potter received a wrapped parcel at the foot of her bed this morning, a parcel without a note. It was a Firebolt."

"A Firebolt! Merlin's beard, who would have given her something so . . . ." Realization dawned on the wizened witch's face, and her mouth pursed into a frown. "It will have to be completely stripped down. Depending upon the curse used, there might be a way to track the spell. And, brooms like that cost a fortune! Perhaps we could track Black through the money trail."

"Unlikely, but necessary nonetheless. Would you care for me to accompany you, Professor McGonagall?"

Peering sympathetically at Rose, whose hands were balled into tight fists, Minerva shook her head. "No, Severus, there is no need for you to climb the stairs. I'll send Miss Potter back to you as soon as I retrieve the broom."

The four Gryffindors left together, Minerva speaking quietly to Rose. Severus cursed his luck and cursed Sirius Black. He had planned so carefully, and yet that psychopath had been able to ruin his Christmas from afar. He almost wished Black had dared enter the castle himself. At least that way, he could have had a fair shot of killing him.

Rose returned alone, her expression sullen and rebellious. As soon as she was within shouting distance, she let him have it.

"You can't be sure that was from Black! What if it was from the Weasleys? Or Dumbldore? He gave me my Invisibility Cloak first year! Why couldn't it be him? I finally get something absolutely brilliant for Christmas, and you decide to take it away from me! I thought you liked me!"

He silently counted to ten, then twenty, and finally, one hundred. Even so, his response was acerbic.

"If you would use that brain in your head, Miss Potter, you would understand that the Weasleys could hardly purchase a Firebolt for you when they can barely afford to clothe their children and purchase their schoolbooks. Or have you forgotten that Ronald Weasley was forced to use a broken wand for the majority of last year? And, the Headmaster might have given you that cursed Invisibility Cloak, but Lupin has admitted that it belonged to your father. In that light, Professor Dumbledore merely returned something that already belonged to you."

Her mood instantly changed from anger to misery. "But, you told me you had a surprise for me. I thought—"

"I do have a surprise for you. In fact, I have three."

That statement intrigued her enough that she soon forgot her tears. "You do? What are they?"

He smiled devilishly, deliberately attempting to heighten her expectations. "They are very special surprises. Perhaps we should deliver Hagrid's Christmas basket before I give them to you so in all the excitement, you won't forget."

She was hooked. He could practically see the gears spinning in her head as she tried to guess what he might have given her. Belatedly, she thanked him for the small gifts Molly had suggested.

"Never fear, Rose. I promise the surprises I have tucked away for you are much better than any hair ribbon, no matter how well-charmed."

The Firebolt temporarily forgotten, Rose skipped along the trail to Hagrid's cabin. Smoke rose from the chimney, and Fang began to bark excitedly as they approached. Swiftly, Severus summoned a juicy roast from the kitchens with a silent apology to the house elves.

"Sev'rus, good to see yeh. And, Rose, too. A Happy Christmas to both of yeh! Come in, come in!"

Clearing off two chairs, he invited his guests to have a seat. When a grinning Rose presented him with his Christmas basket, the half-giant was beside himself with delight. Snape thought it put the Firebolt into perspective, but he wasn't going to mention the broom again to Rose. As Hagrid invited them to take some gingersnaps, Severus put the pot full of roast by the hearth for Fang.

"Yeh goin' to have a friend fer life there, Professor. Nice of yeh to remember Fang fer Christmas. Been feedin' yer dog, by the way."

"You've seen Grim?" Rose looked eagerly towards the door. "Is he around?"

"Nah, comes an' goes, 'e does. Yeh might find 'em near the Forbidden Forest. Likes the woods fer some reason."

"You have to remember Grim is a stray, Rose. I doubt you can coax him into the castle." While relieved to hear that Grim was still alive, he didn't want to get her hopes up that she could turn him into a pet.

"I know, Professor, but can't we try? It's freezing outside!"

Beaming, Hagrid tossed her a sturdy leather collar. "Knew yeh had a big heart, Rose. If yeh can collar 'em, I'll let 'em stay with me. Fang'll welcome the company."

The big dog looked up briefly at his name, and then quickly returned to devouring his roast.

"Please, Professor."

Her big, pleading, puppy dog eyes reminded him so much of Lily that his breath hitched. Even with Potter's hair, she was truly her mother's daughter. No wonder her patronus had taken the form of a doe.

"I suppose I could use the exercise."

"There's the spirit! What are you waiting for? Let's go!"

Chuckling, Hagrid said he'd see them at the Christmas Feast later that afternoon. Wishing them good luck, he sat down by the fire and unwrapped the pudding they'd given him. It would make a tasty snack.

* * *

><p>"Grim! Grim! Here, boy! Where are you, Grim?"<p>

They had searched for the black mutt for almost a half hour when Severus decided to give up. Rose's cheeks and nose were red from the cold, and her voice had grown hoarse from shouting.

"Rose, I think we should . . . ."

As if he had been waiting for the last possible second, Grim bounded out of the forest, his tail wagging. He made a beeline for Rose, but sat down expectantly rather than enthusiastically putting his paws on her chest like he had done before. She rewarded him by scratching behind his ears.

"Look at him, Professor! He's skin and bones!"

"Hardly that, Rose, but he has lost some fat." Bending down, the wizard patted Grim on the head, talking to the dog as if he could understand. "I was worried about you, mutt. I'm glad to hear Hagrid's been feeding you."

Hoping the house elves would forgive him for two stealing meats in the same day, he summoned half a ham to land at the dog's feet. With an eager bark, he settled in to eat.

"We should have looked for him earlier, Professor. I thought I saw Grim in the bleachers the day I fell off my broom."

Severus thought it doubtful that she could have seen much of anything in that driving rain.

"You have been recovering from five stunners, Miss Potter. It is understandable that you have not been able to search for him. Besides, I doubt he would enjoy being cooped up after experiencing the freedom of living in the Forbidden Forest. There are sections of the forest that can be quite warm, and there is sufficient food and shelter if you don't manage to get eaten yourself."

"I've got to try, Professor. He looks so scrawny."

While the large black dog was preoccupied with eating the ham, Rose quietly approached, collar in hand. Grim, however, sensed her presence, and backed away, whining as he did. When Rose stopped moving, so did he, but each time she advanced with the collar, he backed up a little farther. Only when his ward was at the edge of the Forbidden Forest did Serverus put an end to it.

"It's no good, Rose. He prefers to live free. I could spell the collar on him, but he would be miserable."

"But, he'd be warm and safe, and I'd take care of him!"

Severus put his arm around Rose's shoulder in understanding. "I'm sure you would, but I think Grim is not the sort of dog who would enjoy living in Gryffindor Tower or even Hagrid's hut. He's obviously very intelligent. I wouldn't be surprised if he had been someone's familiar. He knows what he wants. Leave him be."

"But, I only want to keep him safe."

Anguished, she watched as Grim disappeared into the forest. With a strangled sob, she buried her face against Severus' chest. The Potions Master found himself patting her back, assuring her that the dog would be fine. He had a suspicion that she cried over Black's latest attempt to harm her as well, but he knew she didn't want to speak about the Firebolt. As soon as she dried her tears, she pulled away, apologizing profusely.

"Sorry, Professor. I didn't mean to get your robes wet. I can control my emotions better, I promise. He's just a silly dog. I shouldn't let it bother me so much. I really am sorry. I don't mean to be a burden."

He ignored her embarrassment. "Grim is indeed a foolhardy dog to prefer the woods to your care, Miss Potter. But, enough of that. It is Christmas Day, and I have not yet given you your surprise."

"Is it a broom?" she asked eagerly. "I mean, not a Firebolt, of course, but I really miss my Nimbus 2000."

"It is not a broom," he answered, though he continued quickly so she wouldn't have the chance to be too disappointed. "However, if the Firebolt cannot be made safe, then we will look through the catalogs together and I shall order you something more practical, agreed?"

Nodding, her entire body was tense with anticipation. "Where's the surprise, then? Do we have to go back into the castle to get it?"

"I have not one surprise, but three," he told her with a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Three? But you've already given me three presents! I've never received so many presents from one person before!"

He smiled jovially at her excitement, although he couldn't help but be saddened by her revelation. The hair ribbons and coin purse hardly counted as proper Christmas presents, especially from a parental figure. He had assumed for such a long time that she was as spoiled as Pansy Parkinson, and yet she was practically jumping up and down at the thought of receiving six presents from him. He hoped she wasn't too disappointed with his gifts.

"Then, today will be a Christmas to remember, Rose. While we need not return to the castle, I hope you don't mind accompanying me to the greenhouse. Professor Sprout asked me to tend to her plants, and I must admit that the cold is making my leg stiff."

"Sure thing, Professor Snape!"

The girl dashed off towards the greenhouse, quickly outpacing him. Fondly, he watched her race ahead, her green cloak swirling over the snowy ground. Arthur Weasley had been right; she was a tomboy at heart. She wasn't meant to be meek and scared of her own shadow. He only hoped the actions he had taken at Privet Drive would bolster her spirit enough that her healing could truly begin.

* * *

><p>"Not fair! You had them in your cloak all along! I thought you'd hidden them in the greenhouse."<p>

Sitting side by side on one a sturdy wooden bench, Rose pouted theatrically as Severus pulled out three parcels wrapped brightly in red and green. A wry smile brightened his pallid face.

"How else could I get you to water all the plants? Besides, I thought you would like to open these gifts away from prying eyes."

Intrigued, she picked up the package shaped like a cylinder, but he gently took that one out of her hand and presented her with the heavy rectangle instead.

"There is an order to the presents, Miss Potter. I'd like you to open this one first."

She looked at it suspiciously, and he couldn't help but prolong the suspense. "Aren't you going to guess what it is?"

"It's a book," she answered confidently.

"Ah, but what book?"

"A Potions manual?" she suggested with a false, cheery grin.

He smirked; really, this was too much fun. "Rose, even I do not give Potions manuals for Christmas."

"Oh." Carefully, she untied the ribbon and slit the paper with her finger. Her eyes widened in surprise. "It's an old copy of Peter Pan!"

"Not so old. The paper is acidic and has yellowed over time. Open the cover and read the inscription."

_Merry Christmas, Sev! This is the copy of Peter Pan I had when I was little. Although I'd like to think of myself as Wendy, we certainly get into as much mischief as the Lost Boys. I know Hogwarts has been difficult for you at times, but hold onto your happy thought. Unlike Peter, in a few short years, we'll be all grown up, and no one will be able to tease you anymore. –Lily_

"Mum gave this to you? But, you should keep it!"

"It's yours, Rose. I know how little you have of your mother's. Besides, I think it's you who needs reminding to hold onto your happy thoughts now."

"Yeah, I guess I do." For a minute, she moped about the Firebolt, but then she remembered to thank him.

"I really do appreciate the book, Professor. I've never seen my mother's handwriting before. It's much neater than mine."

"You're welcome, Rose." He hadn't expected her to be very excited about Peter Pan, but he knew the next gift was sure to please.

Her eyes shifted to the other two packages. "Which one next?"

He handed her a narrow box. This time, she tore at the paper, tossing it negligently aside. Lifting the lid, she took in a deep breath. "It's beautiful. What is it?"

"It's a Muggle charm bracelet." Taking the silver bracelet out of its box, he fastened it to her left wrist. "The word charm in this context refers to the small silver figures hanging off the silver links. It has no magic whatsoever, but your mother wore this before she married."

Shaking her wrist, Rose peered at the charms. "This one's a unicorn! And, here's a lily! Oh, look, there's even a rose!"

Snape briefly looked away. He had given Lily the rose charm the summer of their fourth year. It had been a token of his deep affection, although she had failed to understand the significance. He remembered it had taken days to mow enough lawns to earn the money for the tiny trinket.

"Indeed. I hope you enjoy wearing it. Although it's not an Invisibility Cloak, it was treasured by your mother."

"How did you get it, Professor?"

"Your mother left it with her parents when she married. I'm sure she kept it with the intention to give it to her daughter. Your aunt Petunia recently gave it to me; she thought you should have it."

"Aunt Petunia? My Aunt Petunia? Are you quite sure, Professor? Maybe it was Sirius Black disguised as Aunt Petunia. She's never given me more than Dudley's castoffs and a coat hanger in my life."

"I think you'll find your Aunt Petunia has changed her mind, about a good many things. In fact, she was instrumental in my acquiring your last surprise. Why don't you open it?"

Rose eyed the cylinder warily. Severus understood her caution. One kind act from Petunia Dursley was not going to erase a lifetime of neglect and abuse.

"Trust me, Rose. Open it."

Slowly, she removed the wrapping paper, exposing a sturdy scroll. Unrolling it, she silently began to read. As she did, an excited flush warmed her cheeks.

"Is this real?" she breathed, hardly daring to believe.

"It is, although I will understand if you prefer someone else to be—"

She threw herself at him, embracing him tightly in an ecstatic hug. "No one else! Thank you, thank you, Professor! This is the best Christmas I've ever had! _Expecto Patronum!_"

Her doe patronus appeared in a blaze of silver, streaking around the greenhouse in an dynamic frenzy until it burst into an extraordinary display of fireworks that put anything Zonko's could offer to shame.

Severus regarded her with a mixture of pride and affection, unabashedly returning her hug. "Merry Christmas, Rose."

"Merry Christma—oh wait!" Reaching into a pocket sewn into her cloak, she pulled out a slightly squashed package and handed it to him.

Chuckling at the battered appearance of his present, Severus ripped into the paper to expose a box of Honeydukes' dark chocolates. Popping one of the rich coins into his mouth, he offered one to his ward, who took it with alacrity.

"Thanks, Professor. I am getting a little hungry."

"We can't have that. Let's head back to the castle. The Christmas feast should be starting soon."

"Fantastic!"

Again, she raced ahead, but Severus didn't mind lagging behind. Rose's happiness had truly made the day his best Christmas ever. When she ran back for him a few minutes later, tugging impatiently on his arm, he couldn't hold back the smile on his face, nor did he wish to.


	23. Drama, Teenage and Otherwise

Author's Notes - Yes, I know; I missed updating earlier in the week. I hope to get back to the twice a week posting soon. This chapter was difficult to write because it kept going off in different directions. I think I've finally gotten it to say what I want it to, but what do I know? Comments are always appreciated. Thanks to FleurSuoh, Njoki and Chocolate and caramel for reviewing the last chapter. Hope everyone enjoys this one.

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><p>Watching unobserved from his vantage point at the top of the Astronomy Tower, Severus smiled at Rose's carefree mood. She and Hermione Granger were building elaborate snowmen on the grounds below to welcome back the students returning from Christmas holidays. He suspected that most of the snowmen were based on actual people, staff included. In fact, Miss Granger had rather cleverly charmed one to appear remarkably like Albus, right down to the aquamarine robes. So long as the two didn't dare attempt to create his image in snow, he supposed it was a harmless pastime.<p>

Ronald Weasley was not with them. In fact, the least talented of the Weasleys had not been on speaking terms with Miss Granger since what quickly had become known as the Christmas Feast Fiasco. Oh, the feast had started off well enough. Even Sybil Trelawney's sudden appearance had not dampened Severus' good spirits. No, it had taken a boy and his rat to do that.

Why the dunderhead had ever believed that tucking his bedraggled rodent underneath his sweater had been a good idea was beyond Snape's comprehension. Nevertheless, the rat had been an uninvited, if quiet, guest to the feast. Ronald had snuck him food in between his own gargantuan bites, and no one would have been the wiser had Mrs. Norris not entered the hall looking for her owner.

The cat had sniffed out the rat almost immediately, launching herself onto the table. Turkey and chipolatas, roasted potatoes and parsnips, mince pies and Christmas pudding had all gone flying as Filch's crazed cat barreled down the laden table heading straight for the unfortunate Ronald Weasley. The rat, no doubt sensing danger, clawed its way out of the boy's sweater, scratching deep cuts into the foolish Gryffindor's stomach.

The feast had been all but forgotten in the midst of the shouting and wand waving. Almost everyone jumped up to subdue the rodent, aiming spell after spell into the fugitive's path. Unfortunately, the rat proved to be quite adept at dodging stunners, and soon disappeared into one of the many cracks in the baseboards of the Great Hall. Mrs. Norris took one look at the commotion she had caused, and retreated in a streak of fur, Filch jogging ineffectively behind in an effort to catch her.

The entire scene would have been comical, except the boy unreasonably affixed the blame for his injuries and rat's disappearance on Miss Granger. Severus had been tempted to intervene, but the young wizard's argument was so ridiculously flawed that he quickly changed his mind. The two teens engaged in heated shouting match before storming off in opposite directions.

At the time, Severus had considered the tiff an extra Christmas present. It had given him the opportunity to spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening with Rose. She hadn't seemed overly upset at the disappearance of the Weasley's hand-me-down pet, explaining that Scabbers had been looking ill since the summer. Now that the disagreement had continued for over a week, however, the Potions Master had feared that his ward would become anxious at the tension between her friends. Thankfully, she was still as cheery as she had been on Christmas Day.

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><p>As he watched the girls push the snow into large mounds, there was the slightest sound coming from behind him on his left. Severus stiffened, all of his senses on alert. Hearing the faintest of rustles, he slowly pulled his wand from pocket and then whipped around.<p>

There stood Albus Dumbledore, smiling benignly as if watching a prized pet perform an admirable trick.

"Good afternoon, Severus. You remain the only teacher at Hogwarts who always hears my approach. No matter what limitations you may now have, your senses are as sharp as ever."

He didn't bother hiding his annoyance. The old man had purposefully allowed himself to be heard, and they both knew it. And, since the wizard oftentimes preceded bad news with praise, Snape steeled himself for something unpleasant.

"You could surprise a grim, Albus, and no doubt scare it to death. What is it that you want?"

Intentionally ignoring the jibe, the Headmaster beamed at Snape, his eyes twinkling merrily.

"Why, Severus, I do believe your jokes are mellowing as you are. What an extraordinary occurrence. Could it be that you've finally decided to enjoy life?"

Rising to the bait, he answered with a long suffering sigh. "My enjoyment matters little, Albus, as you well know."

Perceptively, Dumbledore peered over the parapet to see Rose and Hermione giggling over their newest snow creation, a tall, thin figure dressed in tartan plaid. Turning his attention back to his Potions Master, however, Albus' expression turned grave.

"Oh, my boy, did you think you could hide such a thing from me? I am disappointed that you put so little faith in our relationship."

The shock must have registered on his face, for the older wizard gently continued. "Remus confided in me. It must come as a surprise, but he was worried for you."

"He was." His voice was flat as he considered all the ways he was going to kill the werewolf for correctly guessing that he had been responsible for the wards falling at Privet Drive.

Dumbledore put his hand on Severus' arm; the master spy was so rattled that he almost asked the wizard where he found robes in that particular shade of purple.

"I understand, Severus, truly I do. I have been a stern taskmaster over the years, and it is only natural that I should be your boggart considering your vow to protect Rose and the events that transpired this past summer. I only wish that you had allowed me to help you face such fears. You must know that it was not your fault."

"Not my fault," he repeated dumbly, not quite comprehending which secret Lupin had revealed.

"Severus? You don't blame yourself for Rose's attack, do you?"

The derision he held deep within manifested itself as a twisted sneer. "Blame myself? Of course, I blame myself. The only other person I blame more is you, Headmaster."

The white-haired wizard hunched his shoulders, seemingly shrinking under Snape's accusation. Taking his hand off the younger man, Dumbledore silently watched Rose and Hermione pelt each other with snowballs. When he finally spoke, his voice trembled with regret.

"No more than I blame myself, Severus. I fear I have made a gross miscalculation and Rose has paid the price."

"Yes, she has."

Just when he finally believed that the great Albus Dumbledore had admitted that leaving Rose with the Dursleys had been a mistake, the Headmaster proved that he had been thinking very differently.

"I should have impressed upon Petunia Dursley the exact nature of the threat the child faces. I'm sure if she understood how much of a danger Voldemort poses, she would have continued to shelter her niece no matter what objections her sadly prejudiced husband might have raised. The blood wards were my most powerful protection, and now they're gone.

He knew. Dumbledore knew exactly what sort of man Petunia had married, and he had placed Rose there regardless. The thought sickened him.

"If you'll pardon me, Headmaster, I really must prepare for tomorrow's classes."

But, the powerful wizard wasn't ready to let him go. Peering anxiously into the younger man's eyes, Albus sought to reassure.

"I trust you implicitly, Severus. Should something unspeakable happen to Rose, I know the fault will not be yours. Miss Potter's path is a difficult one, but I remain confident that you will do everything in your power to protect her."

Something unspeakable had already happened to Rose, and the wizard in front of him had done everything in his power to deny it had ever ocurred. For the first time, Severus felt no guilt in lying to the man who had given him a second chance at redemption.

"And, I value that trust, Albus, for Rose's sake if not my own. I regret that I did not come to you myself. It was humiliating enough to have Filius, Remus and Minerva witness my failure. I didn't think I could speak of such a thing, even to you."

"I understand. At least one good thing has come from this. Rose has finally learned how to cast a patronus. Remarkable, really, a doe, just like her mother. Truly, I see more of Lily in her every day."

"Indeed. She is much like her mother. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must get ready for the morning."

"Of course, my boy. Excuse an old man's ramblings. I'll see you later in the Great Hall."

* * *

><p>Thwacking his cane angrily down the steps, Snape slowly made his way to the dungeons. He didn't know whom to address the majority of his ire: Lupin for betraying him or Dumbledore for betraying Rose. There was a vindictive part of him that wanted revenge on both.<p>

After dinner, Snape caught Lupin alone in the corridor near the Defense teacher's offices. Dumbledore wasn't the only one who could rely on stealth when necessary. His cane pressed against the ragged wizard's neck, he threatened death and dismemberment with a particularly nasty scowl. His voice was smooth, almost sensual, and as dangerous as a spitting cobra.

"Just what did you think you were doing by telling the Headmaster the form of my boggart? Have you no concern for Miss Potter's wellbeing, or are you merely jealous that she trusts me more than she trusts you?"

Strangely, the wolf didn't seem all that upset at the question, although he was forced to rasp out an answer when the pressure on his neck didn't lessen.

"Neither. Dumbledore knew I was hiding something. I remember your warning that he was skilled in Legilimency. I had to give him that truth in order to conceal a deeper one."

Reluctantly, he lowered his cane, eyeing Remus warily. "That is all you showed him. You're positive?"

"Certain. I turned away from him as I admitted what had happened. He thought I was ashamed at betraying a confidence."

"Were you?"

"Of course I was, Severus." He answered with just a hint of irritation, still rubbing his neck.

"And, that is the extent of your betrayal?"

Remus glanced briefly at the floor. "I have told you before that I am not assisting Sirius Black. I don't know how to convince you otherwise."

He intentionally didn't comment, preferring to leave Lupin wondering. Returning to his quarters, he spent the rest of the evening in restless contemplation, revisiting his decision to take permanent custody of Rose. In the end, he could only hope he had done the right thing.

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><p>Three days later, Neville Longbottom successfully brewed a potion in class without assistance. Granted, a Calming Draught was not that difficult to brew, but the boy had to start somewhere. Severus had actually smiled at the lad when he had turned in his vial, resulting in Mr. Longbottom backing away from him in confusion.<p>

Neville being Neville, the clumsy boy somehow managed to knock over Rose, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Finnegan, Mr. Goyle and Mr. Malfoy like a line of dominoes. Potions shattered on the stone floor, and Severus had been forced to offer all six the opportunity to redo the assignment after supper that evening. Afterwards, he could only think that perhaps Mr. Longbottom's improvement in Potions was not something to celebrate after all.

As the clock in the Potions Lab chimed seven that evening, Seamus Finnegan rushed into the room with a muttered apology. Shooting him a glare, Severus motioned to the board.

"You've all brewed this once, so you shouldn't have any questions. I am giving you an hour to finish, which is ample time if you do not waste it in idle chatter."

There was little chatter, idle or otherwise. Satisfied that the three groups were working diligently, Snape began to grade first year essays, which invariably gave him a headache. When the clock chimed eight, he looked up to find his students putting away their supplies. He complimented all of them on their work ethic before asking for their vials.

As the Gryffindors and Slytherins filed out, he placed the six vials in the cupboard before making sure that everything was tidy and ready for his N.E.W.T. level class in the morning. Satisfied all was in order, Severus extinguished the lights and locked the door. It was then that he heard the sound of raised voices coming from the hallway.

Stalking towards the commotion, the tap of his cane heralded his arrival. There was no possibility for stealth that night.

"What is this? Dueling in the hallways like some common criminals? I expect better from all of you."

Draco, sporting a bloody nose, was the first to hurl an accusation. "It wasn't dueling, Professor! Granger attacked me! With her fist, like some common Muggle! She's crazy!"

He hated to admit it, but Hermione did look slightly unhinged. Her bushy brown hair flew in every direction; her cheeks were beet red; and the look in her eyes was almost murderous.

"Miss Granger? Do you have something to say for yourself?"

Breathing heavily through her nose, Hermione shook her head. "He deserved it after what he said to Rose."

His eyes instantly locked on his ward. She was close to tears, but hiding it well. If he hadn't noticed her pinching her arm, he wouldn't have suspected the extent of her distress.

"While I do not hold that mere words are sufficient provocation for physical violence, would anyone care to enlighten me as to what, exactly, Mr. Malfoy said?"

Draco didn't hesitate. Haughtily, he replied, "I'll tell you exactly what I said, Professor. I'm not ashamed of it. Potter here asked if I enjoyed my holidays, and I simply explained to her that Malfoys don't associate with weak, half-blood witches who can't even stay on their brooms properly. I told her to stop following me around like some pathetic stray, and to stay with the only people who will have her, a Mudblood and an impoverished blood traitor."

Severus' eyes narrowed in anger. "Draco, detention, now. The rest of you, back to your Common Rooms. Go!"

He didn't wait to see that everyone dispersed. Rapidly losing his patience, Snape clamped his hand painfully around the young Slytherin's arm. While counting out loud in Latin in an attempt to calm his temper, the Potions Master dragged a stunned Draco into his office.

By the time he reached two hundred fifty, he had calmed enough to think rationally about the boy's actions. When he finally addressed Draco it was far more placidly than the boy had expected.

"How were your holidays, Draco?"

"Fine," the young Malfoy stammered, flushing when he realized that he had almost stuttered in the presence of the one wizard sure to take it as an insult.

"And, your mother? She is well?"

"Yes." The odd, politely phrased questions were unnerving Draco just as his Head of House had intended.

"And, your father? Did you see much of Lucius over the holidays?"

"Father always spends the holidays with Mother and I," he answered a bit defensively.

"Indeed." Snape suddenly had to repress a grin. All of a sudden he felt as if he were channeling Dumbledore. The older wizard had taught him more than he had ever realized. Speaking in the same polite tones, he went in for the kill.

"And, does your father have anything to do with the fact that you took leave of your senses and cruelly slighted the one Gryffindor who, up until now, has not been inclined to hex you before speaking to you?"

Plunging onwards, he didn't allow the boy to reply. "I really must congratulate you, Mr. Malfoy. Tonight, you have won a great victory for pure-bloods everywhere. You managed to wound the-girl-who-lived in the one spot where she is most vulnerable; you made an enemy of the entire Weasley clan by insulting their lack of wealth; and you called Miss Granger a name that will be buzzing around the school by tomorrow's breakfast. Most importantly, you managed all this without once raising your wand. You are truly your father's son. I must commend you, Draco.

The young wizard didn't look so arrogant now. His face turned a sickly green, although he made a good show of appearing unaffected by his professor's speech.

"I don't know why you're so concerned about a few Gryffindors, Professor. The Houses are better off separated. We Slytherin take care of our own, and that's exactly what I'm doing. Ro . . . Potter needs to know she's out of her league. I was simply doing her a favor by telling her to stick with the weasel and the know-it-all."

"So, calling Miss Potter weak and Miss Granger a Mudblood is your attempt at nobility."

Something flashed in Draco's eyes, but it was gone too fast for Severus to classify the emotion.

"That's right, Professor. I was being noble."

Not truly surprised, yet deeply disappointed, Snape nodded sagely.

"I certainly understand, Mr. Malfoy, but you should understand that nobility oftentimes comes at a price. For your noble attempt to point out Miss Potter's flaws, twenty-five points from Slytherin and a week's detention. For your use of the word Mudblood, another twenty-five points from Slytherin, and an additional week's detention. I shall not punish you for calling Mr. Weasley impoverished. The term, while tasteless, is true enough. Besides, I believe Fred and George Weasley might indulge in their own brand of retribution, and I would hate for you to be punished twice for the same noble offense."

Flushing, Draco immediately protested. "But what about Quidditch practice? I'm Seeker. Surely, you'll make allowances for that!"

Severus grinned nastily as he couched his voice in false regret. "I would hate to be accused of favoritism, Mr. Malfoy. Someone might believe it ignoble of me. You will be scrubbing out bedpans in the Hospital Wing for two weeks, Quidditch practice or no."

It was finally too much for Draco. Incensed, he ran from the room. "This is your fault, Snape! And, if we lose a Quidditch match because of it, I'm going to make sure everyone knows it!"

Resting his head in his hand, Severus watched him leave, not bothering to correct the young wizard on his disrespectful form of address. Instead, he slowly shook his head at the irony. Teenaged drama—he knew it had been inevitable. He simply hadn't foreseen it coming from such an unlikely source.


	24. The Truth in Firewhiskey

Author's Notes - Yes, I know; the once a week update is getting to be a habit. I hope to have more time for writing in the next few weeks. And, yes, this is a shorter chapter, but it needed to end where it did. Severus finally speaks to Aberforth, but by the time it's over, he may wish he hadn't. Thanks to FleurSuoh and Chocolate and caramel for taking time to review the last chapter. Hope this chapter was worth the wait.

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><p>As Draco's cruel snubbing of Rose spread throughout the school, war erupted between the Gryffindors and Slytherins. Madame Pomfrey was inundated by students who had been hexed as a result. Some, like Terrence Higgs and Oliver Wood, had been active participants. Others, like Cho Chang, had merely been caught in the crossfire.<p>

Professor Snape severely punished anyone unwise enough to display hostilities in his classes, although he had a hunch that several of his Slytherins still managed to ruin the potions of their Gryffindor counterparts on a regular basis. There was little he could do without witnessing the tampering firsthand. He refused to consider any student guilty until proven innocent. Still, he found himself grinding his teeth during particular classes, and his tempter flared on more than one occasion.

Strangely enough, Rose herself did not seem to be the target of the attacks. Miss Granger had been hit by a Jelly-Legs Jinx, and Lavender Lovegood had been sent to the Hosptial Wing after a particularly nasty combination of a Stretching Jinx and a Sponge-Knees Curse. Marcus Flint had spent two weeks scrubbing cauldrons for that offense. Severus couldn't wait for the day the brutish wizard finally left Hogwarts.

After a month, though, things began to quiet down. The professors stepped up their patrol of the hallways between classes, significantly reducing the opportunity for dueling and ambushes. As fewer classmates were attacked, the thirst for vengeance gradually diminished. The teachers all breathed a collective sigh of relief, although Severus couldn't help but resent the Headmaster's lackadaisical attitude throughout the worst of it. When the four Heads of Houses had approached Albus Dumbledore at the height of tensions, he had brushed off their concerns, pointing to the bad weather and high spirits.

"This, too, will blow over with the spring winds," he had promised, and it had taken all of Snape's patience not to groan in response. Pomona had not been so reserved, angrily pointing out that the feud had begun to impact the students' education. Even this did not greatly trouble the white-haired wizard, who used an upcoming Board of Governor's meeting to politely dismiss them.

The feud had one positive effect. It crystallized Snape's desire to teach Rose some useful spells. The girl was obviously talented at Defense, and after her success with the Patronus Charm he saw no reason to hold that talent back. Asking her to stay behind after Potions one snowy afternoon, he outlined his plan.

"You have proven very adept with the Patronus Charm, Rose. I'd like to teach you some other advanced spells that might be of benefit."

"Like what, Professor?"

The Shield Charm to begin with. Once you've mastered that, I thought you might like to learn the Reductor Curse and the Blasting Curse."

"But, those can hurt people," she protested, nervously twisting her charm bracelet. "I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want them to leave me alone."

"Is someone bothering you, Rose?"

She looked to the ground, mumbling her answer so quietly that he didn't catch it. When he asked her to repeat herself, she gripped her hands on the top of his desk so tightly that her fingers went white.

"No one, much. I didn't mean it like that, honest, Professor. Ron and Hermione had a falling out, and each one of them expects me to take their side. I know it must be difficult for Ron with Crookshanks hunting his rat, but Scabbers gives me the creeps. I keep seeing him in odd places, almost like he's following me or something. I wish Ron hadn't brought his pet to Hogwarts in the first place."

Had her repressed trauma and the stress of being Sirius Black's target made her paranoid?

"Rose, Hogwarts is an old, drafty castle. It has its fair share of rats. Surely Weasley's pet has long since run to freedom or died. You are most certainly mistaking several rats for one."

Her face was a mixture of disappointment and defensiveness, and her voice had a slight hysterical edge to it. "You'd think so, wouldn't you, Professor? But, Scabbers happens to be missing part of his right paw. I can tell the difference."

Instantly contrite, he apologized for doubting her. She relaxed fractionally, but still had that air of defensiveness he had not seen since the Christmas incident with the Firebolt. He needed to do something to make amends, and quickly.

"You can use that to your advantage, you know."

"I can?"

"Allow Weasley to accompany you around the school. Explain to Miss Granger beforehand that you are attempting to find the boy's pet. Have her follow you in your Invisibility Cloak. When Scabbers makes an appearance, she can cast the Summoning Charm and return Weasley's rat to him."

She quickly grasped the implications. "Brilliant, Professor! If Hermione finds Scabbers and gives him back to Ron, he'll have to forgive her." Quickly, though, her smile turned into a frown. "We haven't been taught a Summoning Charm, though."

Pleased with his solution, he smirked. "Do you truly believe that will be a hindrance to Miss Granger? I will ask Professor Flitwick to give her written instructions, and we shall add that to the list of spells that I will teach you."

Her smile instantly reappeared. "That sounds great, sir! Can we begin lessons this Saturday? I don't have anything to do since it's a Hogsmeade Weekend."

"Regretfully, I do. If you spend Saturday completing your homework, however, we could practice on Sunday afternoon."

He hated to disappoint her, but he was determined to visit Aberforth Dumbledore. The cynical old wizard might not be willing to explain his brother's slip of the tongue, but it was worth the attempt. Severus had the feeling that Ariana might be the key to understanding why Albus had been so keen to sweep Rose's attack under the rug.

"Could we look for Grim, too?"

That was an easy request to grant; he had missed the mutt as much as she. "I'll arrange for us to practice behind Hagrid's hut again, if the weather doesn't turn." Then, he warned with a sly grin, "Providing you finish your Potions essay on Saturday. I understand the dreadful Potions Master who teaches your class is less than pleased with shoddy workmanship."

Rose snorted with laughter before growing mock serious. "I'd never consider anything else, sir. That horrible old bat would have me cleaning dirty cauldrons for a week."

He feigned indignation. "Old? I'll have you know that I am far from old, Miss Potter."

"You're old enough to be my father," she replied without thinking. When she realized what she had said, she flushed as she stammered an apology.

"Not that I expect . . . I mean, I'm really grateful . . . um, I know you wouldn't . . . that is . . . ."

As he watched her twist her charm bracelet, he gently stopped her rambling. "It's alright, Rose. It is simply an expression of speech, and a true one, at that. I promise you that I will never attempt to take his place. I'm well aware that a guardian is a poor substitute for a parent, and I truly regret the necessity."

Her entire face turned beet red, and he didn't quite know what to make of it.

"Oh, no, Professor! I didn't mean . . . ."

She trailed off, and began to back away. Mumbling a goodbye, the flustered child ran out of the classroom with a promise to get her essay finished by Sunday. He wasn't quite sure what he could have done to handle the situation differently. They both knew that he was a poor substitute for her father, even when the man had been James Bloody Potter.

Taking from his desk the last of his dark chocolate coins, he vowed to make it up to her. Perhaps a fancy quill or a bagful of sweets would not go amiss. It wasn't fair that Rose was forced to stay within the confines of the castle while her peers enjoyed the relative freedom of Hogsmeade. If his destination hadn't been the Hog's Head, then he might have been tempted to take her with him. However, he couldn't believe that any tale Aberforth might tell would be reassuring to her ears. Better for now if he went alone.

* * *

><p>Walking to Hogsmeade in the swirling snow, Severus let his mind wander. Lupin would need the Wolfsbane Potion in another two weeks, and frankly, he was tired of brewing it. He began to go over a list of ingredients in his head that might prolong the effects. It would certainly be advantageous to create a potion that need only be consumed once a year.<p>

Might as well wish for a cure for lycanthropy, he decided as he dismissed one ingredient after another. He quite liked that idea. The wizard who cured the dread disease would be instantly wealthy, and could devote their life to research rather than teaching. Not that he completely disliked teaching. It was more than tolerable this year, and sometimes wandered into the truly amazing. Though, he would always prefer teaching the N.E.W.T. level students. They (Fred and George notwithstanding) were the only group bold enough to experiment with the theory behind the practical lessons.

Soon, he could barely see the path in front of him, and he suddenly wished that he had taken Rose to Hogsmeade. He doubted Sirius Black would show up in such foul weather. Passing a group of Slytherins engaged in a snow fight, he warned them to stick together before continuing his trek.

Turning down the street that led to the Hog's Head, he yet again pondered the unfortunate circumstances of events that had led to Lily's death. If only Sybil had chosen another time to make that damn prophecy. If only he hadn't run to the Dark Lord with the tale. If only that fool Potter had entrusted their location to Dumbledore. If only . . . .

"In or out, Snape, I don't care which. Just close the bloody door!"

Tensing, he closed the door to the Hog's Head, silently berating himself for being such an idiot. Getting lost in his own thoughts was an excellent way to get himself killed. With a practiced air of indifference, his eyes scanned the tavern. It looked to be in its usual seamy state, dark and dank with the hint of old grease pervading the air. And, it was decidedly empty of other patrons. Perfect.

"Cutthroats too soft to be out in this type of weather, Aberforth?" he sardonically replied by way of greeting.

"You should know."

Picking up a none too clean glass, the innkeeper splashed some Firewhiskey into it and pushed it in his Severus' direction. He drank it in one go, but didn't ask for another.

"Enjoy your holiday?"

"Miss me, did you?"

The hardened man eyed his customer appraisingly, and Severus suddenly wished he had nursed the Firewhiskey. It would have given him something to do with his hands. He knew the next few minutes would determine if he left the Hog's Head as ignorant as he had entered. Making no sudden movements, he pulled out a green bottle.

"What's that?"

"A gift. It's Muggle single malt whiskey, aged over fifteen years. I thought a man who drinks as much as you might appreciate it."

Aberforth picked up the bottle, studied it, and then promptly put it down. "And why would a wizard like you be giving me something like this?"

"I owe it to you, for the summer." Hesitating for a few seconds, he didn't have to feign his embarrassment, which he covered by being excessively curt. "Couldn't walk this far earlier."

The door to the tavern chose that moment to blow open, loudly banging against the side of the building. With a resigned scowl, Aberforth took out his wand and charmed it closed.

"Damn building's falling apart. That's the fifth time this week. I have to tie it shut in the evenings now."

Severus didn't ask why Albus' brother didn't bother repairing the door, or the building for that matter. Instead, he watched him glare at the bottle like it was poisoned.

"Take it. It is a gift, nothing more. If you hadn't been here, I would have bled to death in Hogsmeade."

Briefly, Aberforth glanced at the portrait that served to conceal the hidden entrance to Hogwarts. Finally, he asked, "The girl survive?"

"Yes."

"Do I want to know what happened to her?"

"No."

"Thought not. Not my business, anyway, though seeing her brought back things better left forgotten. Couldn't help but remember that it was the day Sirius Black escaped. Damn Death Eaters, you'd think they'd learned their lesson once old Voldie kicked the bucket.

"Muggles."

"What?"

"Not Death Eaters, not Black, Muggles."

The gruff wizard's features hardened into granite. Before Severus could react, he had taken the bottle of whiskey and hurled it against the wall behind the bar. It exploded into tiny glass shards and drops of spirits, running down a dusty mirror that was obviously charmed against breaking.

When the innkeeper turned back towards Snape, he was a man transformed. The Potions Master could well believe that this wizard was the brother of Albus Dumbledore. He radiated the same raw power, although it presented itself as a blistering rage rather than an icy fury.

"What the fuck has he gone and done this time? Well, boy? You tell me now, Snape! We both know this isn't a social call, so you tell me what my brother's done to that poor girl! Maybe I can stop him before he ruins any more lives!"

Stunned, Severus answered woodenly. "He obliviated her."

The enraged wizard threw back his head and laughed. It began as a derisive guffaw, but grew in intensity until he was cackling like a madman. The door again banged open, but neither man paid it the least bit of attention. When Aberforth finally calmed to the point of sanity, his expression was contemptuous.

"So, he's still trying to dodge his responsibilities. Figures. He never was anything other than an arrogant, selfish coward. I would have thought that this time he might have tried to help the girl, considering who she is, but I suppose if he couldn't be bothered to help his sister, he wouldn't make the attempt for one of his pawns."

Reeling, Severus' hand trembled as he did his best to prolong the conversation.

"Ariana?"

Roughly, he gestured to the portrait. "Ariana, our sister. Attacked by Muggles when she was six. Never was the same afterwards. Father went to Azkaban for attacking the three boys who hurt her. Mother died caring for her. Ariana died that same year because my brother didn't give a shit about her welfare. He probably thinks by obliviating the girl he's doing her some kind of favor."

Taking a deep breath, he poured himself a good amount of Firewhiskey, which he chugged down. The glass slammed onto the bar with a bang.

"My brother can be a manipulative, cruel bastard, Snape; make no mistake. You risked your life to protect the girl once. Don't be surprised if you have to do it again to protect her from Albus and his 'greater good'. Merlin only knows I wish I had done the same for Ariana."

Abruptly, Aberforth's anger fled, leaving nothing but a bitter shell of a wizard. The grizzled man poured himself another Firewhiskey and gestured to the door.

"Take care of that for me when you leave, will you? I'm going upstairs. Storm's getting worse, and only a fool or a desperate man would dare come here now. Frankly, I've had enough of both today."

Without another word, Aberforth trudged up the stairs, the open bottle of Firewhiskey clutched in his hand. Alone, Severus sat at the bar for several minutes, too shocked to move. His entire worldview had just shifted on its axis. Albus Dumbledore—the wizard who defeated Grindelwald, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, the man who had given Severus a second chance in return for his fealty—was not the all-knowing, all-seeing demagogue everyone assumed him to be.

Shakily, the Potions Master rose to his feet and limped towards the blast of cold air coming through the open door. Aberforth was correct; the fluffy snowfall had changed into a raging storm. Walking outside, he glanced down as he closed the sturdy oak door. His earlier tracks were already obliterated by the newly fallen flakes. On top of them, however, was a rapidly disappearing set of smaller boot prints, both coming and going.

He recalled the oddity of the door opening by itself, twice. His face drained of all color as he realized the meaning. Following the trail as swiftly as he could, he yelled frantically for Rose.


	25. Questions and Answers

Author's Notes - A longer chapter than the last one, but I must admit I indulged my enjoyment of melodrama in the first part. I'd like to thank Chocolate and caramel, Christopher Kidwell and Njoki for the feedback on the previous chapter.

I'd like to address a general point brought up in one of the reviews. This is obviously AU, and I've taken a few liberties with memory charms, but they don't completely obliterate the memory in question, and their use is not without consequence. If the memory simply disappeared, then Voldemort would not have been able to pull the memory from Bertha Jorkins' mind that Barty Crouch, Jr. was alive, and she wouldn't have been so forgetful all the time after Crouch, Sr. obliviated her. So, yes, I've changed things a bit with Rose remembering the emotions of her attack without the memory, but I think it stays true to the spirit of the novels. After all, if memory charms had no side effects, I imagine they would be used much more often.

Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoy!

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><p>When he reached the main street, Severus lost Rose's trail in the crowd of students and teachers making their way back to the castle. The trip to Hogsmeade had been cut short in light of the worsening weather conditions. Blinded in a gale of dazzling white, Severus asked everyone he met if they had seen Rose Potter. No one had. He searched the shops, but the few that were still open were empty of customers.<p>

Returning to the street after an hour of fruitless searching, he immediately noticed that it was deserted. Darkness was rapidly falling as the storm turned into a proper blizzard, and he realized with a chill that he would not be alone for long. Dementors roamed the streets of Hogsmeade after dark, protection against Sirius Black. If he didn't hurry, those same protectors would feast off his soul. He could only hope that Rose had run back to Hogwarts and was drinking hot cocoa near the fire in her Common Room.

Wearily making his way towards the train station, he experienced the crushing weight of regret as he began to recall all the times his father had beat his mother and he had been too cowardly to stop it. Fighting against the memories, he knew with a sick lurch that he was no longer alone.

He'd never make it to Hogwarts. Hoping the Three Broomsticks was open, he hobbled down the street as fast as he could, but the presence of the dementors had disoriented him to the point that he had taken a wrong turn. There were no welcoming lights in the distance. Growing ever weaker as he relived more recent horrors, he stumbled and stepped into a drift, falling onto what could very well be his cold, white grave.

Abruptly, he remembered his patronus, but as the horror of his past overwhelmed him, it was a vague memory at best. His will to fight deserted him, and he stoically accepted his fate. They were closer; he could feel it; it wouldn't be long now.

And then, he thought of Rose. Rose, facing the Dark Lord as he possessed Quirrell. Rose, taking it upon herself to run into the Chamber of Secrets. Rose, so typically stubborn, willful, with no respect for authority and far too much like her father. Rose, a broken porcelain doll lying discarded behind a tree. Rose, barely able to stand in the infirmary, more concerned about his welfare than hers. Rose, flying down the Dursley's stairs, relieved for the first time to see him. Rose, off her broom and plummeting towards the ground. Rose, opening the guardianship papers, her face radiant. Rose, so lost and confused.

His cane was gone, yet somehow he stood. There were five of them, but it hardly mattered. He had remembered the reason he fought. "_Expecto Patronum!"_

His doe shot out of his wand, barreling through the half dozen dementors with a blinding flash. Once the immediate threat had been vanquished, his strength deserted him. He sank to his knees on the freezing snow. Watching as his patronus slowly faded away, he thought he could make out the faint outlines of a building in the distance.

He could no longer walk. He crawled, pulling himself by his arms, dragging his useless left leg behind him. He thought his lungs would burst, that his heart would explode from his chest with the exertion, but he persevered. For her sake, for his sake, he kept moving, kept trying, refused to give up. When he saw which particular building had become his personal lighthouse, however, his hopes sank. He was outside the Shrieking Shack with no way in.

It was too much; he let out a primal yell of rage. His scream resonated oddly in the silent maelstrom. For a moment, he thought he had given into hallucinations; his cry repeated in a much shriller voice.

"No! Professor! No!"

Looking up, he saw an image of white running towards him. Approaching, it shrank in size as sheets of snow fell to the ground until the shape was eerily human in appearance. Just then, Rose Potter's head suddenly materialized in the air above him. Kneeling before him, her arms were exposed to the elements. The invisibility cloak, he realized as she peered anxiously at his face.

Intense anger and profound relief left him too weak to speak. She was here, beside him, safe and sound. And yet, neither one of them were safe while the snow continued to fall. Weakly, he beckoned her closer so she could hear his ragged voice.

"One thousand points from Gryffindor for your disobedience, Miss Potter."

His pathetic attempt at a joke only added to the tears that blotched her face. "We've got to get you back to Hogwarts, Professor. You're freezing."

She wasn't and that thought buoyed him. Her invisibility cloak must be wonderful indeed. Reeling from the effect of the dementors and Aberforth's bombshell, however, he couldn't muster the energy for the smallest charm. Rose was right; he was slowly freezing.

"I don't suppose you've ever performed a Hot Air Charm."

Sniffing back more tears, she shook her head.

"Then there's nothing for it, then. You're going to have to go get help."

"They'll never find you in all the snow! I won't leave you, Professor."

He bit back a groan. Stupid, bloody, brave Gryffindors. "I suspected as much. Alright, then, Miss Potter, help me up."

"What?"

Channeling his anger, he barked out his demand. "Help me to stand, you insufferable child! We'll go to the Three Broomsticks. I am not going to have all the work I've done to protect you unravel now because you're too stubborn to get out of the cold. Well? What are you waiting for? Move, Rose!"

Using her as a support, he used every ounce of his will to pull himself upright. After that, he held onto her shoulder and focused on putting one numb foot in front of the other. Her arm must have hurt as he used her as a living crutch, but she never complained once. Not entirely sure they were walking in the right direction, Severus prayed under his breath that they find shelter. An eternity later, the lights of the Three Broomsticks flickered before them.

Madame Rosmerta herself led them inside. The inn was crowded, and Severus couldn't help but make a comparison to the Hog's Head. When the crowd went silent and all eyes turned towards them, he wished to be back at Aberforth's. There was something to be said for anonymity.

Rose, her invisibility cloak concealed in his pocket, half-dragged him to a newly emptied table by the fire. Only partially coherent, he thought he could hear the hiss of the snow on his robes as it melted from the heat of the fire. Laying his head on the tabletop, he wished his teeth would stop chattering.

"I've contacted Hogwarts, Professor Snape. Professor Dumbledore's relieved to hear you and Miss Potter are safe. Said something about knowing you had found her when the Gryffindor hourglass went to zero. You're both to stay put until the weather clears."

Blearily, he raised his head. "Indeed, madam. If I could bother you for a pillow, the table is somewhat firm."

Both Rose and the innkeeper studied him with growing alarm. Within a minute, the usually flirty Rosmerta had briskly pulled him upright, and Rose held a mug of something blessedly hot and sickeningly sweet for him to drink.

The hot cocoa went a long way to thawing his body and counteracting the effects of the dementors, even if it sat somewhat uneasily in his stomach.

"Better, thank you," he said graciously, taking a good look at the other patrons in the crowded inn as he did so. Recognizing no one, he ordered an early dinner for himself and Rose. Protein would quickly counteract the beverages currently clashing in his stomach.

After casting several spells to ensure their privacy, he allowed himself to slump in his chair. Severus tried meeting Rose's eyes, but she had bowed her head in shame, the guilt all too apparent on her face.

"Are you injured?"

She looked up in confusion. "Me? Shouldn't you be worrying about yourself, Professor?"

"You haven't answered the question," he replied as neutrally as possible.

"I'm fine."

Liar. Rose Potter would be an easy mark when playing cards. He'd have to remember to advise her against it. Every emotion she had telegraphed itself on her face. She might not be injured, but she was far from fine.

"I discovered you were there. Your footprints gave you away. That's why I went looking for you."

Again, her head dropped. "I know. It's my fault you got so cold, just like it was my fault you almost died last time."

Ah, so she had figured that much out, not that it would have been difficult. He could only hope the knowledge wouldn't trigger her memories. As much as he had opposed the idea of obliviation, he thought it ill-advised for her to recall the horror of that night in a crowded, public place.

"My own stupidity resulted in my injuries, Miss Potter, not you. As for the rest of what you heard, perhaps now is the time to ask any questions you might have."

She gazed absently at the fire, fiercely tugging on her charm bracelet. "Is that why she gave me up? Because Uncle Vernon went too far this time?"

Finally, he was going to get the answer to a question that had long troubled him. "How far has he gone in the past?"

"Not very," was the immediate reply, but he gave her time to compose herself before gently pointing out that she was obviously not speaking the truth.

"It was mostly his belt. He didn't try to hit me with his fists more than a couple of times, and I was too quick for him. I guess the worst of it was when he used the buckle. Those times . . . hurt. Yeah, it hurt a lot. I think my magic helped me heal quicker, though, just like the time Aunt Petunia tried to cut my hair and it grew back in a day."

Chocolate bile rose in his throat. "How often did he use the buckle on you, Rose?

She shrugged. He was beginning to associate that shrug with things he'd rather not know. "Every month or two, maybe? A few more times when school ended and he blamed me for Dudley's horrible grades. Before Aunt Marge's visits because he was trying to make sure I wouldn't act like a freak."

Seeing the closed expression on his face, she hastily added, "It was usually on my bum. Wasn't like there was a whole lot to hurt there. I had a hard time sitting, yeah, but it was better than the times he missed and broke a bone."

If he heard anymore he was going to apparate to Privet Drive and kill Vernon Dursley then and there. He changed the subject. "It wasn't your uncle."

"But you told the man it was Muggles."

The man, not Aberforth, and certainly not Dumbledore. She still didn't know who obliviated her, and perhaps that was for the best. Knowing he was skirting very close to dangerous memories, he quietly admitted, "They were thugs, Rose, acquaintances of your cousin."

Her face went white. "Piers and his gang. I . . . I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. When I was little, they liked to go Rose hunting. Mrs. Figg, she's a neighbor, she told me to ignore them and they'd leave me alone. Never seemed to work, though. Mostly, I ignored them until I had to run."

Her face reflected her attempt to process so much information at once. Her brow furrowed, and her lips pursed into a scowl. Eventually, she drew enough conclusions to face him again.

"So, it wasn't a car accident."

"No."

"But you didn't tell me."

"No."

She struggled to articulate her next question, and he wished they were unseen as well as unheard so he could envelop her in a reassuring hug. Right then, they both needed it.

"How did Piers manage to hurt you?"

"He didn't. I found you afterwards. When I was assessing your injuries, I was attacked by a dog."

This seemed impossible for her to comprehend.

"A dog."

"Yes."

"Like Grim?"

"Not so like. Grim hasn't once tried to rip my throat out."

There was another long silence as her thirteen year old mind attempted to connect the dots.

"But, you used to duel, back when Hogwarts had a team. Professor Lupin told me. How fast could the dog run?"

"I was . . . distracted."

For a moment, she stared at him, not entirely comprehending, and then, she swallowed as if she had eaten something sour.

"Me. You were distracted by me, but I don't remember it. Did they hit me on the head?"

"Yes." It wasn't a lie, exactly. They had most certainly hit her on the head at some point.

"And, other places?"

He couldn't breathe, couldn't discern the thought behind the question. What did she remember?

"Rose . . . ."

She interrupted before he could continue, voicing her thoughts out loud as much as she was speaking to him.

"I mean, they must have hit me a lot. You never get distracted in class. I never really believed that you could have blown up a cauldron. I must have been bleeding, or unconscious, or something scary, and you felt sorry for me, and the dog snuck up on you, and attacked you. So, it's my fault that you walk with a cane and stutter sometimes and your hand shakes and you got stuck with me. And, I can't remember it because someone performed a memory charm on me like Lockhart wanted to last year. Someone used a memory charm and you've been lying all the time, and I don't understand why. Why did you lie to me? Why do you care what happens to me? Why now?"

Something scary—her words reverberated in his head. Rose was a child. Even in her wildest imaginings, her darkest fears, she could not conceive of the horrors those beasts masquerading as boys had put her through. How could he have ever thought forgetting that was wrong? She was recovering, gaining confidence, trusting again, but it would all shatter if she remembered exactly what had been done to her. Even Aberforth had acknowledged that his sister had never been the same after a similar attack. How could he have been such a fool?

The silence lengthened, and he abruptly realized that he needed to say something, anything to make her understand that his actions were not the result of mere obligation. He could see her anger grow the longer he waited. He kept his voice calm, low, reassuring, even as his heart thudded painfully in his chest. Aside from sarcasm, he'd never had a way with words. He could only hope he could explain his rationale without confusing her more.

"I'm going to tell you, Rose, all of it, but it's not something that is easy for me to say. For the moment, I need you to listen. Can you do that?"

He feared her bracelet would break—she fiddled with it so much. But, she grumbled a "fine," and he took that as a yes. Straightening in his chair, he self-consciously spoke of what was most painful to him.

"When I made the vow to protect you, I was hurt and angry and mourning the loss of your mother. Lily and I had been friends, best friends, and then I did something unacceptable to throw that friendship away. When she married your father, it made my bitterness worse. And, then, when she was gone, I unreasonably blamed you. I vowed to protect you, but I didn't have to like you. So, your first two years at Hogwarts, I searched for any sign, any detail that would make you Potter's child but not hers. It was much easier to hate Potter's child. Potter had been arrogant and privileged and the rules never seemed to apply to him, just like they have never seemed to apply to you. Can you understand that?"

She understood immediately, although not in the way he had hoped.

"That makes sense," she answered far too calmly. "I hate myself sometimes for being the reason my parents are dead. I can understand their friends feeling the same way."

He couldn't let her think such dispirited thoughts. "No, Rose, what happened wasn't your fault. Lily was your mother. She loved you. And, she did what any mother would have done. She died protecting you. The blame is not yours; it is the Dark Lord's."

"But, you just said . . . ."

"I said that I resented you, which, unfortunately, I did. But, not for those reasons." He momentarily stopped, fearful of her reaction, but he soon gathered his courage and plunged onwards. "I didn't resent you because Voldemort tried to kill you and Lily got in the way. I resented you because you were Potter's child and not mine."

Her mouth opened in surprise and her cheeks turned beet red. "Oh! Oh, I never guessed! I thought you were just friend friends, but you . . . and my mother . . . um, you were . . . I mean, in school you . . . ?"

"We were friends, Rose. I never had the courage to admit my feelings to her. And, then, I did something reprehensible at the end of our fifth year and she never forgave me. She started dating your father that summer."

Rose leaned back in her chair, clearly pondering everything he had said. Madame Rosmerta arrived with their stew during her contemplation, and the child ate in silence, which Severus did not interrupt. Once the table had been cleared, she again began to finger her charm bracelet, but without the desperate fervor of before.

"Rose? Do you have any further questions? It is my hope that you can forgive me for so badly misjudging your first two years of school. When I asked your aunt to sign the guardianship papers, it was not out of a sense of obligation. As I told you in the Hospital Wing, I care about you and what happens to you."

At first, he thought she wasn't going to answer. And then, her chin jutted out in perfect imitation of Potter's and there was a defiant spark in her eyes that he hadn't seen since her second year.

"Yeah, I've got one, Professor. What did you do in school that was so bad my mother wouldn't forgive you?"

The question, when it came, should not have shocked him quite so badly, but it did. For a few seconds he forgot to breathe, and the horror of having to answer it must have shown on his face. She immediately backpedalled and said it didn't matter, but he stiffened his resolve to reply.

"After exams in our fifth year, your mother and I had an argument. I called her a Mudblood."

The revulsion he had for that particular word showed in his expression, but his face soon became a mask as he waited for the girl's condemnation. It never came.

"You called my mom a bad name and she wouldn't forgive you?"

"It is an exceedingly 'bad' name, Rose. The connotation is that . . . ."

"I know what Mudblood means, Professor. Hermione explained all of that after Draco used it on her. I don't understand why she didn't forgive you. You were angry, right? We all say things we don't mean when we're angry."

He couldn't let Rose think badly of her mother, especially when it had been completely his fault. "It wasn't just the word, Rose. When I attempted to apologize, Lily told me that I had made a choice. I had already broken our friendship by choosing to ally myself with Slytherins spouting pureblood nonsense."

"How long did it take you to apologize, Professor?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't understand the question. It didn't matter when he had apologized. He had committed an unforgivable offense. Surely the child understood that?

"That night. I waited outside the Gryffindor Common Room until she finally came out to speak to me. But, it doesn't matter when. What I did was inexcusable. Your mother was right to shun me."

She stared at him, her green eyes reflecting nothing but the light of the candle flickering on the table. Giving him a little half-shrug, she stood up. "If you say so. Can we go back to Hogwarts now? I'm tired."

"It's still snowing, and the Headmaster told Madame Rosmerta that we should stay until the storm breaks. That might not happen tonight. I'll have her show her to your room."

"But what about the floo? Surely we can go home by floo."

He did not miss her use of the word home when referring to the school. Truly, it was his home, too. Nor could he explain why Albus had deemed fit that they stay in Hogsmeade when the Three Broomsticks had a public floo. He was beginning to believe the crafty wizard had an ulterior motive for almost everything he did, although he had no idea the reasoning behind this particular decision.

"We shall obey the Headmaster, Rose. You have broken the rules enough today. Rosmerta will take you upstairs."

The reminder of her sneaking out of Hogwarts had its desired effect. She immediately became contrite and followed the innkeeper up the stairs. Severus spent the night in the tavern, drinking nothing stronger than tea. His thoughts were troubled enough without the muddling effects of Firewhiskey.

The Headmaster appeared in the fireplace at the crack of dawn. The barkeep had long ago retired, and Severus was momentarily alone with the older man. His thoughts were so conflicted that he had no idea what to say. He found that he didn't need to say anything. When Albus reached him, he compassionately put his hand on his shoulder.

"You kept her safe, Severus. In the end, that's all that matters."

"She followed me out of the castle," he confessed heavily.

A hint of a twinkle shone in Dumbledore's eyes. "Yes, that sounds like a very Rose thing to do. Wouldn't you agree?"

Before his conversation with Aberforth, he would have taken offense at a statement which, on the surface, seemed so trite. But, the Headmaster was right. It was something Rose would have done—before her attack. Yet, he could not say how much the events of yesterday might have set back her recovery.

"She was wearing that damned Invisibility Cloak, Albus, the one you gave her. She heard the conversation I had with Aberforth."

Far from being surprised or angry, the Headmaster was unexpectedly matter of fact. "An unfortunate occurrence, one we shall discuss at another time. Sirius Black breached the Gryffindor Common Room last night. For a reason known only to himself, he attempted to attack Ronald Weasley in his bed, but left once the boy gave a cry of alarm. If the child hadn't woken, things could have gone very differently. While Rose's rule breaking is regrettable, last night it may have saved her life."

He blinked, completely at a loss for words. Hogwarts was no longer safe, if it ever had been. So much for going home.


	26. The Forbidden Forest

Author's notes - We're definitely deep into AU territory now, but I promise the threads will soon begin to weave together into a recognizable pattern. Thanks to FleurSuoh, goodwithweird, VerySmallProphet, Lily Luna Snape Riddle, and Njoki for reviewing the last chapter. And a special thanks to Rumour of an Alchemist for the PM telling me about a significant typo in the last chapter. It should be fixed now.

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><p>Pressing his fingers together, Severus watched silently as the weekly staff meeting turned into a raucous debate. The subject, of course, was Sirius Black's latest breach of Hogwarts. While everyone agreed that Black was no doubt mad, no one could understand his reasoning for entering the boys' dormitory instead of the girls'.<p>

"Perhaps the wards on the girls' dormitory were too strong," Pomona Sprout nervously offered.

No one spoke for a second, and then Lupin quietly crushed her argument. "Sirius could get into the girls' dormitory by the beginning of our fifth year. The spells to keep the boys out aren't all that complicated."

Minerva's eyes narrowed and she gave a little humph of disapproval before Professor Vector spoke up. "Could he have intended to cast the Imperius Curse on the boy?"

There was a moment of absolute silence, and then most everyone began to talk at once. A consensus was quickly reached that Sirius Black had intended precisely that. Severus thought the idea absurd. Yes, the macabre strategy of using one of Rose's best friends to kill her might appeal to Black's sick sense of humor, but how would a fugitive know of their close friendship in the first place?

More to the point, why didn't Black kill everyone in the room as he made his escape? A wizard who had thought nothing of betraying his best friend, blowing up another and killing a dozen Muggles shouldn't have a qualm about killing a few students. Why had he shown such mercy when he had shown none to the Potters?

Glancing around the large conference table, he noticed two others who shared his skepticism. Albus sat calmly, listening to theories that grew increasingly preposterous, but never once made a comment. Lupin, too, was quiet, although he looked increasingly unwell, so perhaps his reticence was due to the aftereffects of his most recent transformation rather than doubts about his former friend's motivations.

Once the more vocal instructors had shared their opinions, the Headmaster redirected the conversation. "While I understand the need to explain Sirius Black's actions, we must not dismiss the fact that, once again, the sanctity of Hogwarts was breached. At the moment, I am more interested in discovering how a fugitive from Azkaban managed to gain entrance to the castle than why he did so."

This time, no one was keen to give their opinion. Finally, Dumbledore sighed. "No? Then, perhaps it is advisable that we strengthen the wards. Filius, if you don't mind . . . ?"

"Not at all, Headmaster."

The small, but fierce wizard left immediately to strengthen the wards, accepting Professor McGonagall's offer of assistance. Severus watched from the table as the rest of the faculty began to stream out of the crowded room. The Care of Magical Creatures instructor, however, turned against the tide to approach him. Snape was forced to hide his amusement as Hagrid nearly bowled over Sybil Trelawny in his eagerness to speak to him.

"Professor Snape. Jus' wanted to have a word with yeh. Now, I know Rose deserves the detentions yeh gave 'er fer sneaking into Hogsmeade, but I was hoping yeh could let me take one o' them this week. Grim disappeared again after the blizzard an' I was hoping she could help me look fer him in the Forbidden Forest."

He bit back his instinct to shout, 'Are you mad?' Rose had told him of her run-in with the Acromantulas of the year prior. Instead, he carefully considered the request. Obviously, Hagrid, like he, believed Grim must have a safe spot in the Forbidden Forest where he hid from predators and inclement weather. But, the tender-hearted half giant must be somewhat worried to suggest taking Rose into the Forbidden Forest to look for the mutt. He rubbed his temples. There was really only one answer.

"If you don't mind my presence as well. With Sirius Black still on the loose, I would prefer to accompany Rose. Between your physical strength and my skill with a wand, I believe we could protect her from any threat she might face."

Hagrid swelled with pride at the compliment, but then he rapidly sobered.

"I'm not afraid teh face Black, Professor. Already did tha' once. Guess it was lucky I got to Godric's Hollow when I did the day James and Lily died. Black showed up jus' a few minutes later askin' to take Rose. They named 'em her godfather, yeh know. When I told him I was supposed to give her to Dumbledore and no one else, he didn't try teh take her. Even gave me his flying motorbike so I could get there quicker. Said he didn't need it anymore. Don't know what terrible thing might have happened if I hadn't gotten teh her firs'."

His years of Occulemcy training were the only reason the shock didn't register on Severus' face. Even so, he couldn't believe what he had heard.

"Black came for Rose after the Dark Lord had been vanquished?"

"Didn't think much o' it at the time," Hagrid confirmed. "Everyone knew he was her godfather. Guess he was too afraid of Dumbledore teh try an' take her by force."

"Perhaps," was the only answer he could muster. Too many things weren't adding up, and Snape hated being behind the curve. "Would tomorrow night be acceptable?"

"Tha's perfect, Professor. Bring a bone, would yeh? Might find that dog o' yours faster with it than without."

"Of course."

Troubled, Snape watched Hagrid duck his head as he passed through the doorway. He knew there had been a witness to their exchange, and he waited patiently for the inevitable remark.

"I must say, Severus, that I find your kindness towards Hagrid to be quite extraordinary. You are changing, my boy."

"For the better?" The question is only half in jest.

"Surely you have learned by now that kindness is not a weakness?"

He ignored the comment, focusing instead on Black. Something didn't make sense.

"A shame that Black can't tell the girls' dormitory from the boys'. He must be more deranged than I believed."

Dumbledore countered in the same sardonic tone. "And, yet, for a madman, he seems quite adept at breaching the wards."

And, suddenly, Severus saw the flaw that has been staring them all in the face. Black could either be mad or sane, but not both. If he was mad, then he should not have been able to enter Hogwarts in the first place. If he was sane, he should have succeeded in killing Rose a long time ago. Shocked at the realization, he wondered how long Dumbledore had known.

"Do you have any idea of his true agenda?"

Albus didn't pretend to misunderstand. "No, although Cornelius confided in me that the day Sirius escaped, he kept repeating, 'He's at Hogwarts'."

"**He's** at Hogwarts, not she?"

"The Minister was very clear on that point."

"You think he's after Lupin." It is not a question.

"I did," he admitted with a worried frown. "Sirius betrayed James and then killed Peter. I thought that perhaps he would want to finish what he started so long ago. Considering what transpired last night, however, I find myself wondering if it is that simple."

"You believe that he was loyal to Voldemort from the beginning? I never heard his name mentioned once, and I was very close to Regulus before he was killed. Surely, he would have mentioned that his brother had been a mole for such a long time. A Black would have been too proud not to boast about something like that."

Suddenly, Albus' appearance mirrored his actual age. His shoulders were stooped; his face lined with worry. The twinkle had left his eyes, eyes which revealed far too much pain and regret. For once, he looked frail.

"Perhaps. I must give it more consideration, at least."

Then, he made an effort to smile, and burdens disappeared under a veneer of friendly concern. "I hope my brother's opinions did not unduly upset Rose."

Severus paused uncomfortably before answering. Sympathy was not an emotion he experienced very easily. Nor did he readily apologize. But, he thought that Albus, at least in this case, deserved both.

"Rose did not hear most of Aberforth's . . . opinions, Albus. Although I did not realize it at the time, she ran outside as soon as she had discovered that she had been attacked and obliviated. We spoke of it at the Three Broomsticks. She was naturally angry at having been lied to, but she had no concept of the atrocities that had been committed against her. I must apologize for previously doubting the wisdom of your actions. I understand now what you were trying to prevent, and I am sorry."

Dumbledore's smile became more genuine. "Thank you, Severus. Your opinion means a great deal to me. I apologize if it seemed that I was more concerned about the political ramifications of such an incident than Miss Potter's welfare. The wizarding world is precariously balanced at the moment, and I fear we are one incident away from open hostilities between pure-bloods and Muggleborn, with the half-bloods caught in the middle. Surely, you can understand the dangers of that."

He nodded to show he understood all too well. No one, least of all him, wanted another war fought over blood purity. But, he had quickly realized something else. Such consideration paled in comparison to Rose's welfare. That, he finally realized, was the difference between himself and the wizard who had become more of a father figure to him than Tobias Snape ever could. Dumbledore was able to put his personal feelings aside for the greater good. He could no longer do so, if he had ever possessed such a skill in the first place.

"Severus? Are you unwell?"

He gave Dumbledore a tight-lipped smile. "Hardly. I simply had an epiphany. If you'll excuse me, Headmaster, I should inform Rose that she will be serving detention with Hagrid tomorrow night."

"Of course, my boy. I have taken enough of your time as it is." As Snape limped towards the door, however, the Headmaster saw fit to warn, "And, Severus, I'm sure I do not need to tell you, but I would appreciate it if our discussion about Sirius Black remained private for the moment. Unless we can capture Black and he explains his actions, it is no more than idle speculation."

"I will speak of it to no one," he promised, certain that it was a promise he would keep.

Although he had found Albus' reasoning fascinating, he didn't think Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban merely to kill his onetime friend. In truth, he didn't believe Sirius Black could possibly know that the wolf now resided at Hogwarts. Having spent a terrifying and tedious five weeks as an accused Death Eater in that hellhole of a prison, he knew that confinement was a solitary one, with no news coming in or out. Black's motivations remained a mystery, and Severus wasn't about to bet Rose's life on anyone's theory, even someone as insightful as Dumbledore.

Marching towards the Forbidden Forest, Severus didn't break stride when Rose put her hand in his. He did, however, spare her the briefest of smiles.

"As soon as you unwrap the meat, I'm sure Grim will bound out of the forest to eat it, Rose. There's no need to worry about him. He's disappeared before."

"I know."

Swinging the sack that held the roast beef they had spirited out of the kitchens, Rose tightened her grip on Severus' hand. Reaching Hagrid's cabin, he peered down at her before knocking on the door. Her jaw was set as if she was about to perform an odious task, and it only took the older man a second to realize that she was apprehensive.

"You have been inside the Forbidden Forest before."

"Yeah, and usually someone or something tries to kill me. It's not my favorite place, Professor."

"Have you so little faith in me, Miss Potter?"

The momentary flash of guilt in her eyes made him stiffen. "I see. Let me assure you, then, that Hagrid is more than capable of protecting you from the creatures that live in the forest. Should you meet an acromantula tonight, you have nothing to fear."

"I don't . . . . Fine," she spat out, knocking on the door of her own accord.

Hagrid greeted them both warmly and then quickly led them deep within the Forbidden Forest. He spoke enough for three, and never realized that Severus didn't speak at all. Rose's answers were given sullenly, but the kindhearted man attributed her attitude to worry over Grim and didn't take offense.

The Potions Master deliberately dropped behind to give Rose space. He knew he had overreacted. After seeing him so helpless during the snowstorm, it was only to be expected that she didn't put much faith in his ability to protect her. Logically, he understood, but her reaction had wounded his pride nonetheless.

Soon, he had fallen even farther behind. While he had Rose and Hagrid in sight, he could no longer hear their conversation. Hagrid's steps were quite long and Rose jogged beside him to keep pace. He had no such ability, although with the help of his cane, he was far from dawdling.

The quiet of the forest closed in around him, putting every one of his senses on alert. He felt a prickle down his back and knew without a doubt that something or someone was staring at him. Whirling around, he was just in time to see a red bolt of light racing from the darkness to head straight at Rose.

"_Protego!"_

His shield charm intercepted the stunner, sending it crashing into a nearby tree. Another stunner shot out of the blackness, this time aimed at him. He watched it explode against the shield he conjured as he turned to bellow at Hagrid.

"Get Rose to safety!"

Just in time, he saw a flare of deadly green aimed at his head and dropped to the ground. Wordlessly, he cast three stunners in quick succession, hoping to distract the caster long enough for him to stand. Back on his feet, he strained to hear any sound which might indicate where the next attack would occur.

"PROFESSOR!"

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Severus was aware of Rose running towards him, the hood of her cloak thrown back and her arms pumping with effort. Hagrid was right behind her, calling for her to stop. Another green light shot out from the darkness, this time aimed at her. He deflected it with another Shield Charm, but in the meantime, a third Killing Curse was hurtling towards him. He caught sight of it in the corner of his eye, but there was no time to react.

He felt a heavy impact against his side and braced himself for death, but it never came. Instead, he could feel the protest of his body as it forcefully met the ground and the uncertain whine of a dog.

Grim! Lying on the frozen dirt, he aimed his wand towards the area where the latest curse had come from. Before he could cast a single spell, however, the forest was lit with red and white jets of light. He heard a muffled oath to his right and the unmistakable sound of a body crashing through the forest.

"Professor!"

Scrambling to his feet, he shouted, "Stay back, you stupid girl!"

Rose ignored his warning, wriggling out of her cloak to escape Hagrid's grasp. Dropping to the ground beside him, she squeezed him so tightly that he had to struggle for breath. He had no time for such nonsense. Pushing her away, he grabbed his cane and hobbled to the area where the attacks had occurred. Listening intently, he could hear nothing but the sound of peace returning to the Forbidden Forest.

"_Lumos_."

A thin beam of light shot out of his wand, and he began to meticulously examine the ground for signs of a struggle. Their attacker had been driven off by at least one other person, whether an associate who had panicked over the use of the Killing Curse or someone else entirely he could not know. But, they owed their lives to whoever stopped the attack.

Grim began to bark frantically some ten feet in front of him, and Severus focused his light in that direction. The spell revealed not one, but two bodies lying motionless in the dead brush.

He recognized them at once. Helena Gamp, her pale skin once again covered in angry red hives, lay immobilized behind Draco Malfoy, though her eyes were opened wide in obvious terror. Draco had not fared so well. Unconscious, he was bleeding profusely from two deep gashes to his chest. He wheezed loudly with each ragged breath.

"Draco! Is he . . . ?"

Already performing the counter curse, his answer was necessarily brief. "He's alive. Assist Miss Gamp with overcoming the Body-Bind Curse."

"Madame Pomfrey's on her way, Professor Snape, along wit' Professor Dumbledore an' Professor Lupin." Taking a good look at Draco, Hagrid exclaimed, "Hadn't seen the likes o' tha' in a very long time. Thought tha' curse was long forgotten."

Nodding, Severus continued to heal Draco. He, too, had hoped that the Cutting Curse he had invented while at school had been forgotten, but he was not so lucky. If Draco died, it would be yet another death on his conscience.

After a few minutes, the Slytherin's breathing eased and the cuts slowly closed, although they did not disappear completely. Blood continued to ooze from the red lines which remained as testament to the potency of the dark spell. As he removed his cloak to cover Draco, he spared a glance in Rose's direction.

She was gently hugging the Slytherin first year, who sat mute on her lap. Tears leaked down Miss Gamp's face, but that was the only indication that she was no longer under the influence of the Body-Bind Curse. Only when Grim put his head on her knee did she move of her own accord to pet his matted fur.

"Severus? Hagrid? Rose?"

Snape made red sparks fly from his wand so Lupin and the others could more easily find them. Hagrid and Lupin assisted Madame Pomfrey in stabilizing Draco and transporting him to the Hospital Wing. Rose followed, pulling Helena along with her. The traumatized young girl had yet to utter a word. Dumbledore walked with Snape back to the castle at a much slower pace.

"Rose is uninjured?"

Leaning wearily against his cane, Snape trudged past Hagrid's cabin. "Yes, though not from lack of effort. A Killing Curse was cast in her direction."

The Headmaster stopped so quickly that Severus almost walked into him. "A Killing Curse? You are certain, Severus?"

"There were three," he affirmed, too tired to take offense at his account being questioned. "Two aimed at me and one at Rose. If it hadn't been for Grim, the second one would have—"

Turning in a slow circle, he realized that the mutt was nowhere to be seen. The dog had slunk off at some point, most likely at the sound of strange voices. Composing himself, he continued, "Draco's injuries were the result of _Sectumsempra_, Albus."

He had expected the Headmaster to berate him for inventing the spell in the first place, but Dumbledore did nothing but raise his eyebrows. "That's telling. It was rather popular with Death Eaters during Voldemort's day."

"Black would have known the spell."

"Ah, yes, you used it on James once at school, didn't you?"

The question was rhetorical, and Snape did not bother answering it. There was no point in apologizing to a dead man.

"Do you believe the attack to be the work of Black or someone else?

Dumbledore gazed tiredly at the Potions Master, his age once again uncharacteristically showing. "I suggest you ask Miss Gamp and Mr. Malfoy that question, Severus. For once, I have no insights to share."

Snape blinked, taken aback by Dumbledore's dispirited attitude. Then, he continued his trek towards the castle. He could only hope that his two Slytherins would be forthcoming when he finally had the chance to ask them why they had been in the Forbidden Forest and who had tried to kill Rose. But, he had a feeling that convincing a Hufflepuff to betray a family member to Voldemort would be easier than getting a straight answer out of either one of them.


	27. A Mother's Tears

Author's Notes - First, thanks to FleurSuoh, AvadaK3 and Chocolate and caramel for reviewing the last chapter. And, thanks to everyone reading and putting this story on alert or favorites. I promise Severus will begin to unravel the clues to the attacks against Rose in the next chapter. (I don't promise he'll make all the correct assumptions, however.) You'll have to forgive Snape, he's a little distracted in this chapter. Hope you enjoy!

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><p>Limping into the Hospital Wing, Severus wondered if his evening could get any worse. Lupin was at Draco's bedside, advising Poppy on the best course of treatment for the Slytherin's injuries. Sensing he was under scrutiny, the ragged wizard looked up and caught his eye. His worn face reflected far too much sympathy for Snape's liking.<p>

Would his past never stop haunting him? He had hoped _Sectumsempra _had disappeared with the Dark Lord, but apparently it was still being utilized in less than desirable circles. Begrudgingly, he joined the discussion.

"Have you tried Essence of Dittany?"

Poppy looked tired, and her answer came out more curtly than she had intended.

"Of course we have, Severus. I might not be an expert from St. Mungo's, but I have been treating children at Hogwarts for twenty-five years. You might want to remember that."

Lupin hastily interjected before the Potions Master could react. "We're lucky the counter-curse was applied so quickly. It undoubtedly saved Draco's life. Madame Pomfrey is hopeful that with multiple applications of Essence of Dittany his scars will not be too disfiguring. The best thing for Draco tonight is to let him rest."

Severus didn't want to let him rest. He wanted to pin him to the wall and rip the memories of the confrontation from his mind. What the hell had the boy been thinking? Why had he been in the Forbidden Forest? And, what had possessed him to place a first year in such danger?

"Of course. Although, I'm sure Lucius will wish to speak to him when he arrives." Taking one last look at the bloodied Malfoy heir, Snape excused himself to tend to Rose and Miss Gamp.

Rose had taken the traumatized young girl to the opposite end of the cavernous room, settling her on a bed. In the light, he could see that the poor girl's robes were splattered with what could only be Draco's blood. Her blond hair had once been in a braid, but now it was nothing more than a tangled, wavy mess. She sat hunched over, refusing to meet Rose's eyes, although she leaned tiredly against his ward, who had her arms wrapped protectively around Helena's shoulders. Gently, Rose murmured that everything would be alright, but her emerald eyes anxiously strayed to Draco time and again.

When Rose noticed his approach, however, she perked up considerably, confidently telling the young Slytherin that Professor Snape was on his way and would make everything better.

Too tired to snort at her naiveté, Severus addressed Rose first. "None of the spells hit you?"

"No," she replied, the reminder of the attack leaving her unusually subdued. "You protected me, just like you said you would." Then, in a choked voice, she whispered, "I'm sorry about tonight. I didn't meant to say—"

"I know that, Rose."

Hopping off the bed, she threw his arms around him. "I'm so glad you weren't hurt! I told you the Forbidden Forest is nothing but trouble."

Ruffling her hair, he carefully disentangled himself from her embrace. "You did, and next time I shall heed your warning. I must speak to Miss Gamp. Do you think you can make it back to the Gryffindor Common Room on your own?"

"But, Draco—"

"Will recover, I assure you. However, he shall have much to answer for when he wakes."

Her lips pursed to form a perfect pout. "That seems a little harsh for someone who was injured saving our lives, Professor."

With great effort he reined in his temper. "Mr. Malfoy was out of the castle without permission. He took a first year with him, and they both could have been killed. It is only sheer luck that he was not hit by a Killing Curse. Believe me, his recklessness is not something to admire."

She glanced once more at Draco. "It looks to me like he's been punished enough."

Although he wholeheartedly agreed, he could not tell her that. "Go, Miss Potter. Talk to your friends and then try to get some sleep. I'll have Poppy excuse you from your morning classes."

"Yes, sir."

As she left, he bit back the urge to apologize. The attack hadn't been his fault, but he felt extremely guilty when he looked into her eyes. He hoped he would get a chance to talk to her about it after tomorrow's breakfast.

Watching Rose leave, Snape turned to the Slytherin first year. Once more, he had to fight against the temptation to employ Legilimency to gain the answers he sought. Studying her expression, however, he immediately lost the urge. Her stare was so blank that he worried for a moment that she had been Kissed.

"Miss Gamp? Helena? Do you know where you are?"

Slowly, she turned her attention to him, her eyes full of remorse. "It's my fault."

"I very much doubt that," he answered gently, hoping she would explain.

She didn't. In fact, she lapsed back into her shocked daze, her haunted eyes staring at the dried blood on her robes. Vainly, Snape tried to pull her out of her stupor, but the evening had been too much for the first year whose time at Hogwarts had been indelibly marked by threats and intimidation. Grasping at straws, he did the only thing he could think to do.

"_Scourgify_."

While the state of Miss Gamp's robes was vastly improved, the spell did nothing to alter her state of mind. Debating the merits of administering a Sleeping Potion rather than a Calming Draught, the exhausted wizard sensed a presence behind him. Thinking that Poppy had come to check on the girl, he was stunned when the person placed a hand on his shoulder. Stiffening, he slowly turned around.

"Let me help her, Severus. Helena knows me, and perhaps a woman's touch would be more effective in this case. Besides, Madame Pomfrey requested your assistance with Draco."

To a casual bystander, Narcissa Malfoy might have appeared stoic, even a trifle cold, but Severus knew her well enough to pick up on the underlying shakiness of her voice. Inexplicably, he had the urge to take her in his arms and comfort her even as he felt the crushing guilt of being responsible for the spell that had injured her child in the first place. While his face remained a mask, his conflicted emotions manifested themselves in his speech.

"C-certainly, N-N-Narcissa."

He swept away before she could see heat rise in his cheeks as the shame of his infirmity was laid bare for her to see. Reaching Draco's side, he noticed that his wounds had opened once more. Whoever had cast the spell had been far too proficient in its use.

Immediately, he went to the Potions cabinet in the corner and took out a small vial of Murtlap Essence, a smaller vial of Essence of Dittany and a container of powdered moonstone. Placing an eighth of a cup of moonstone in a nearby mortar, he then added each of the vials and used a pestle to make a thick paste. Without hesitating, he then took out his knife and sliced the palm of his right hand, holding it over the mortar. There was a loud hiss of steam as his blood hit the mixture.

He gave it another stir before taking the bowl to Draco's bedside. Ignoring the dripping cut on his right hand, he spread the now purple paste onto the unconscious boy's wounds. It was a last ditch effort, but he hoped that the counter-curse he had employed earlier would be bolstered by the essence of the spell's creator.

Slowly, the wound healed before their eyes, leaving only a faint red scar. Lupin grinned at him like some drunken buffoon.

"That was truly amazing, Severus. I can see why you were named a Potions Master at such a young age."

"Yes, I am q-quite the p-prodigy," he answered with a sneer. "L-Lucky for D-Draco that I am so in-intimately acquainted with the in-inventor of such a d-dark spell."

"Really, Severus!"

Poppy huffed at his attitude, and he instantly apologized. She was right; he couldn't afford to give into self-loathing, no matter how well deserved. She patted his hand like she had done when he was no more than a young student, and then hurried off to tend to Miss Gamp.

Sensing Snape's mood, Remus quickly found a reason to be elsewhere. "I should tell the Headmaster that Draco will recover. I'm sure he'll be relieved."

He absently nodded, his attention at that moment focused solely on Mr. Malfoy, who was beginning to stir. A few moments later, the Slytherin bolted upright, his breaths coming in gasps as he searched for an enemy who was no longer there.

The boy came to his senses when Severus touched him on the arm. Turning slightly green, he looked down at his chest. He sighed audibly in relief as he saw that his massive wounds had been turned into nothing more than thin, red scars.

"He's going to pay for that," he vowed without thinking.

"Who?"

The question hung in the air like a dripping fog. Almost arrogantly, Draco answered, "Sirius Black. Who else, Professor?"

"Who else, indeed."

He let the silence draw out, hoping that Draco would feel the need to fill it. Unfortunately, the sole Malfoy heir had been trained in the art of intimidation at a very young age. As the quiet lengthened, he smirked, although his Head of House noticed that the sick pallor of his skin increased with each passing minute.

"Lie down," he said gruffly, propping a few pillows under the child's head. "Considering the fragile state of your health at the moment, you're bound to feel wobbly."

His comment had the desired effect. He had wounded Draco's pride and the boy responded in a predictable fashion. "I am by no means 'fragile', Professor Snape. It takes more than the Cutting Curse to break a Malfoy."

Snape pounced, although he kept his voice lowered so Narcissa wouldn't rush to interfere.

"And, just how familiar are you with the Cutting Curse? It was my understanding that particular spell had fallen out of favor."

If anything, the boy paled further. "I simply meant—"

"You meant exactly what you said. Don't lie to me, Draco. I'm sure your father has mentioned that I am a skilled Legilimens. I was taught by the Dark Lord himself. I suggest you be very careful of what you say next."

As he watched the child's arrogant façade crumble, Snape realized that he was no longer stuttering. Glad for small favors, he continued to observe in silence as Draco's arrogant sneer was replaced by a worried frown.

"Where's Helena?"

The belatedness of his concern was more than made up by his anxiety. Severus had to restrain him so he wouldn't hop off the bed and ruin the all the work he'd done in closing the wounds. Turning around, he saw no sign of Miss Gamp, Narcissa or Poppy, but he made a reasonable assumption and did his best to calm his frantic student.

"Your wounds need more time to heal. You are not to leave this bed," he sternly admonished before speaking of the traumatized girl. "Miss Gamp was not physically injured, but she is in shock. Your mother and Madame Pomfrey are comforting her right now. She was covered in blood and hasn't spoken much since the confrontation."

Reliving his own anxiety as he remembered how close they had all come to dying, Severus' own concern manifested itself in broiling anger. He exploded with condemnation.

"What in Merlin's name were you thinking? You could have been killed! Worse, you could have gotten Miss Gamp killed! There's a reason the Forbidden Forest is forbidden! I thought you would have learned your lesson in your first year! You, of all people, know what danger lurks there!"

Wincing as he gave into the pain of his injuries, Draco lay flat on the bed, his eyes staring at the darkened windows. He stayed that way for so long that Snape worried he might have succumbed to the emotional shock as well.

"Draco?"

He didn't turn his head, and the haggard Potions Master had to strain to hear the words that came out of his mouth.

"Is my father here?"

Severus scanned the room, clearly taken aback by the question and the fact that Lucius was conspicuous by his absence.

"He is not."

"I'm not exactly the shining example of proper Malfoy behavior right now, am I, sir?"

He had the urge to say that was a good thing, but the gravity of the situation didn't allow for it. Instead, he found himself bolstering the child's spirits.

"I should thank you for saving my life tonight. Don't think for a minute that it will offset your trespass into the Forbidden Forest, but I am grateful nonetheless."

Again, the silence lengthened, and again, he had to struggle to hear Draco's question.

"Was anyone else hurt?"

"No, you seem to have borne the brunt of the injuries tonight, Mr. Malfoy."

His fair-haired Slytherin let out a whoosh of air he had been holding. Only then did the lifelong spy connect the dots. Damn, he was an idiot, and so was the besotted boy lying on the bed in front of him. He hated to do it, but he had to know for sure.

"I am surprised, Draco. One would almost believe you actually cared about the welfare of a weak, half-blood witch who can't even stay on her broom properly."

Draco blanched and Severus knew he had hit his mark. Making an understandable mistake considering the circumstance, the injured teen waited a beat too long to protest the accusation.

"You think I care about Potter of all people, Professor? Are you sure you weren't hit by a spell?"

The arrogant, outraged tone was perfect. If his response had been a half of a second earlier, the Potions Master might not have seen it for the lie it was. He would have to contemplate the possibilities of that at a later time, however. He had tired of the verbal sparring.

"You will tell me why you and Miss Gamp were in the Forbidden Forest tonight."

"Why? So you can give me detention? You're going to do that anyway."

Severus' voice cracked like a whip. "Watch your cheek, Mr. Malfoy. I will get to the truth of this, one way or another."

A slight widening of the eyes betrayed Draco's fear. He sullenly began to speak, although he turned earnest the longer he explained.

"I did what you asked of me. I made the witches hexing Helena stop. Only, she doesn't know what's good for her, Professor, because she keeps sticking her nose where it doesn't belong. You can't do that in our House for long without getting your nose cut off."

Looking again at the dark windowpanes, Draco confessed quietly. "I don't know why she went into the Forbidden Forest tonight. Someone probably threatened to hex her familiar again if she didn't. The girls all know she'd do anything for that ridiculous poodle of hers and now that they don't jinx her, they like to make her do dangerous stuff. I saw her with her cloak on and don't ask me why, but I followed her. She wouldn't listen to me."

Sounding much too bitter for a privileged thirteen year old, he added as an aside, "None of the girls listen to me," before continuing. "By the time we reached you, the attack had already started. I saw the flashes of green and knew what it meant. I put Helena in a Body-Bind Curse so she couldn't do anything stupid and then I tried to stupefy him." Ruefully, he looked down at the scars on his bare chest. "You saw how well that ended."

"Did you recognize Black?"

He shook his head, looking directly in Snape's eyes so he could see the truth reflected there. "It was dark and his face was covered by his hood."

Closing his eyes, Draco rested against the pillows, his exhaustion evidenced by the beads of sweat that had formed on his brow. Finding no words that could properly convey his conflicting exasperation, horror and pride at Draco's actions, Severus pulled out a clean flannel to wipe the sweat off the boy's forehead. Realizing he was already asleep, the Potions Master pulled the blanket up to his chin, and then he conjured a chair to sit beside him.

As he tried to fit together the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle that was Sirius Black, he glanced once more at Draco. A stray thought passed through his head. This was the second time that the Slytherin had been injured in defense of someone else. Perhaps his earlier jab that the young Malfoy was noble had been right on the target. The idea left him strangely unsettled.

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><p>Waking up slouched in an uncomfortable chair, Severus felt the pressure of hands on the back of his neck. Fighting the urge to strike before his assailant could choke the life out of him, he slowly opened his eyes. When he saw the unmistakable cleanliness of the Hospital Wing, he remembered everything that had brought him to doze off in a chair in the first place. The hands slowly moved to his shoulders, and he involuntarily stiffened. They quickly disappeared, but not before he understood that someone had been massaging his neck. Intensely curious, he turned around.<p>

Narcissa Malfoy stood behind him, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. "You looked uncomfortable."

Standing, he didn't know how to respond. "I was," he replied, but immediately regretted it when her face colored. Damn, he had accidently intimated that he had been uncomfortable with her, not the chair.

"Narcissa, I—"

"It's quite alright, Severus. I am tired and don't know what came over me. I suppose I should be grateful Lucius isn't here."

Her tone had gone cold and overly formal. He didn't attempt to explain his error.

"Yes, where is Lucius? I would have thought his son's welfare was a higher priority."

"He is on another one of his quests. Mexico, this time, I believe. He mentioned something about an ancient Aztec sacrificial knife."

Her hands were clenched at her side, and her eyes were much too shiny. The same feeling he'd had when he'd brought her into his office for tea several months ago resurfaced. His heart pounded in his chest as an unexpected longing stole over him. It was only Draco's presence that stopped him from taking her into his arms.

He wished she could see that she deserved so much more. Divorce, while frowned upon in wizarding society, was not unheard of. She was a Black. Surely, she had enough of an inheritance to live independently. Then, he stared down at her sleeping son and it all made sense. Of course she would never be permitted to take the Malfoy heir out of Malfoy manor.

"Then, he's a fool."

As her eyes widened with surprise, Snape couldn't help but wonder if someone had enchanted his tongue. What the hell had he been thinking?

She flushed again, although not for the same reason. "Perhaps you're right."

They were facing each other, only a foot apart, and his desire to close the gap between them was frighteningly real. Stunned by his own emotions, he took an awkward half-step backwards. Desperately, he tried to think of something to say to break the uncomfortable silence that descended between them.

"Your son was exceedingly brave tonight."

She looked down at her only child, a mother's smile softening her features. "You were right, Severus. He is not his father's son. Once we were able to calm Helena, she told me how he protected her in the Forest."

The smile faded as she spoke of the distressed girl. "She also told us some of what she has endured during her short time here. I regret that Hogwarts is not the safe and welcoming environment it should be for all. Ellen and Octavius have decided that Beauxbatons might be more to her liking."

"That seems . . . extreme."

Absently fingering her wedding band, Narcissa disagreed. "I think it is in her best interest. Helena has always been a quiet, thoughtful child. To be perfectly honest, I expected her to be sorted into a different House."

The Potions Master had been teaching long enough to know that many children described by adults as quiet and thoughtful were simply sneakier and better at not getting caught than their peers. He kept that observation to himself, however.

"Draco stated that she had been 'sticking her nose where it doesn't belong'. Did she mention anything that would explain his comment?"

"No."

Like her son, she waited a fraction too long before answering for him to be taken in by the lie. Unlike her son, he couldn't threaten her with loss of privileges or House points or even Legilimency. He was sure the Lucius had taught her that skill as soon as they had wed.

She must have caught a flicker of disbelief on his face for she quickly changed the topic. "How is Rose? Helena mentioned that she was the target of the attack."

"Thankfully, Miss Potter was not injured."

"Why were you and she traipsing about the Forbidden Forest with the Gamekeeper in the dark of night? Weren't you afraid of the dementors?"

Her sudden interrogation left him speechless, and the intensity of her gaze made him temporarily dim-witted. He couldn't think of a single plausible lie.

"We were looking for a dog."

If he had been in any other situation, he might have gained some satisfaction in her astonishment. Instead, he felt his cheeks go hot. Now he knew something was definitely wrong with him.

"Rose Potter has a dog?"

"No," he replied, his cheeks now burning with embarrassment. "Rose was serving detention with Hagrid. The dog in question is mine."

Narcissa had always been kind to him. He knew better than to expect teasing from her. Though, he was flummoxed when her face lit up with a pleased smile.

"Oh, Severus, that's wonderful. What type of dog is it?"

"He . . . that is . . . I would have to say that Grim is more of a stray who has adopted me. He is not any particular breed, just a large, black mutt I found on the grounds at the beginning of the year.

Her quiet chuckle took him back to their school days. The worry lines around her eyes briefly transformed into happy crinkles, and she reminded him again of the carefree Narcissa Black he had been rather in awe of during his first two years.

"Only you, Severus, would dare name your dog after a death omen."

They were suddenly quite close again, and he froze, a thousand thoughts coursing through his head. Hesitantly, she reached up to brush back a strand of his limp, black hair that had fallen into his face. Before he could react, she took his hand in hers, her expression earnest and tender.

"Thank you, Severus, for saving my son tonight. Draco means everything to me."

"It was my fault," he argued, "my curse that nearly killed him."

"You must stop doing this to yourself. You can't let your past torment you like this. I'm glad it was _Sectumsempra_. From what Helena said, it could have as easily been the Killing Curse."

Her voice cracked at the end. Acting completely on instinct, he circled his arms around her. She immediately collapsed against him, her loud sobs echoing in the massive, vaulted room. Patting her back, he peered nervously at Draco, but the child was so exhausted that he slept through his mother's tears. Knowing Narcissa's pride, he hoped that Poppy was still busy with Miss Gamp somewhere far away from the Hospital Wing.

As he offered her what comfort he could, he didn't know which was worse, listening to her cries or hearing her choked confessions.

"He's all I have, Severus. If something were to happen to him, I don't know what I'd do. I've made so many terrible mistakes in my life, and he's the only good thing to come out of it. If he were gone, I'd be all alone."

At a loss for words, he hugged her tighter. Eventually, she stopped crying and pulled back, ruefully wiping her eyes. "Look at me. I've made a complete mess of things now, haven't I?"

He knew she wasn't speaking about her makeup. Not quite understanding the source of his courage, he took his thumb and wiped a stray tear from her cheek.

"Of course you haven't. You were understandably overwrought after your son's attack. I am glad that I was able to help you, even in this small way. I have always considered you a dear friend, Narcissa. Please know that you are not alone."

It seemed that he had finally made her tongue-tied. She nodded, and then briefly rested her head against his chest. This time, when she pulled back, she appeared to the casual observer serene and composed.

Whatever had just happened between them was dormant for now, which, after a moment's pause, he decided might be a good thing. Severus donned a mask of pleasant civility to complement hers.

"You should get some sleep," she urged. "I wish to be here when Draco wakes, and then I shall return home. Perhaps I could write you later, simply to put my mind at ease about his welfare?"

"Of course," he answered with only a hint of disappointment. He had hoped to see her in the morning, but knew it was for the best if they didn't. After her breakdown, he was very much afraid that he knew exactly how the prideful, obsessive wizard she had married treated her. The less she had to explain away to him the better.

As he made his exit, however, he couldn't help but stop and face her once more. "Please remember, Narcissa. Should you ever require anything of me, you need only ask."

She didn't answer save a tremulous nod of acknowledgement, but he had not expected her to do so. It was enough that she knew his offer of assistance to be sincere. As he slowly descended the stairs to the dungeons, he tried to focus his thoughts, but they were too jumbled to sort into any type of order. Resigned, he went to bed. For the first time since he could remember, when he dreamed, it was not of Lily.


	28. A Riddle Wrapped in a Mystery

Author's notes - Thanks to Avadak3, Chocolate and caramel, and FleurSuoh for taking the time to review. They mystery begins to unravel in this chapter, but it will take a while for everything to come together. Hope you all enjoy!

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><p>Waking before dawn, Severus dressed quickly, his mind churning with the events of the previous evening. Rose had been attacked. Draco had come very close to dying. And, he still couldn't understand Black's motivation.<p>

As he fixed a strong pot of coffee, the Potions Master tried to place his thoughts in a logical order, but Narcissa's visit was too fresh in him mind for the sort of calm contemplation needed to make sense of them. Grabbing a piece of parchment and a Muggle writing pen, he sat at his kitchen table to write down in a cramped, neat hand everything he knew about Sirius Black and the attacks on Rose.

1) Black befriended James Potter, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew while at Hogwarts.

2) Black served as the Potters' Secret Keeper and betrayed them to the Dark Lord.

3) After the Potters were killed and the Dark Lord vanquished, Black asked to take Rose from Hagrid. He did not attack Rose. He did not take Rose by force. In fact, he gave Hagrid his motorcycle so he could take her to Dumbledore instead.

4) Black killed Peter Pettigrew and thirteen Muggles. The Aurors found him on the street laughing. He made no attempt to resist arrest.

5) Black was imprisoned in Azkaban for twelve years before he made his escape. Dementors guard the prison. He should not have been able to pass by the dementors without being Kissed.

6) The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, visited Black in his cell the morning of Black's escape. He was told later that Black had been muttering, "He's at Hogwarts," after the visit.

7) Everyone assumes that Rose is Black's target. Dementors were placed outside the grounds of Hogwarts to ensure that the castle would be safe.

8) Somehow bypassing the dementors, Black has infiltrated the castle on two occasions. On Halloween, he tried to slash his way into the Gryffindor Common Room. In February, he entered the boys' dormitory, but was chased off by Ronald Weasley.

9) Rose has been personally attacked twice. During the first, she was struck by five stunners, resulting in heart failure. She was revived by the Potion of Last Resort. In the second attack, the assailant attempted to use the Killing Curse.

Looking at the list, he could understand why so many people believed Sirius Black to be mad. Nothing made the least bit of sense. Why spare Rose as an infant only to kill her now? Why betray the Potters, kill Pettigrew but let Lupin live? Why hadn't he put up a fight when captured? Why go into the boys' dormitory instead of the girl's? Who is the 'he' Black referred to in front of Fudge? Why not use the Killing Curse on Rose during the first attack?

Frustrated, he decided to take a walk. The ground was muddy from the melting snow, and his breath came out in puffs of fog, but the exercise helped to clear his mind. Perhaps it was foolhardy, but he found himself alone in the Forbidden Forest looking for Grim. The dog was nowhere to be found, and eventually, he gave up the search to make his way towards the lake.

He walked three miles before the pink and purple streaks of dawn began to paint the morning sky. Leaning against his cane, he took time to appreciate the sunrise.

"Never take it fer granted meself."

He nodded politely to Hagrid, not wanting to spoil the splendor of the moment. It was a rare day when he could appreciate the simply majesty of the turn of the Earth without the crushing guilt that came with it. Far too many people had died because of his mistakes. His fellow instructor did not have his reticence, however.

"Sorry 'bout taking Rose into the Forest. Guess I shoulda' known that dog o' yours is too smart to freeze teh death. Jus' Dumbledore was askin' if yeh was worried fer him, and I got to thinking that mehbe we should find 'em."

The sunrise faded until he could see only black. There was a faint buzzing in his ear as he truly understood what Hagrid had just said. His emotions were so volatile that a nearby rock split neatly in two with a resounding crack. It was enough to bring him back from the precipice of fury that had stolen over him.

There could be no other explanation, but he bit out the words, needing to be sure. "The Headmaster was worried about Grim."

"Well, o' 'course he was. Everyone knows how much yeh like the dog, Professor."

"And, it was his idea that Rose search with you?"

"Oh, no, 'twere me that came up with tha'. He jus' said that Rose was serving detention with yeh, and did I think she was worried too. After tha' I decided she might like to look fer 'em wit' me."

"Of course you did," he ground out, his stomach churning at the masterful way the Headmaster had exploited Hagrid's kind nature.

Before the half-giant could say anything more, Severus politely excused himself, using breakfast as an excuse to return to the castle. Luckily, Hagrid had yet to feed Fang or he might have joined him. Severus had no intention of stopping in the Great Hall. As soon as he was inside, he headed straight for the Headmaster's office. Albus owed him some answers.

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><p>Dumbledore was already dressed in lime green robes, working in his office on a report to the Board of Governors. He was pleasantly surprised to see his Potions Master so early in the day, and immediately offered him a pastry.<p>

Putting his searing anger behind his Occlumency shields, Severus gave Dumbledore a tight-lipped smile as he politely took a chocolate croissant.

"Planning a trip to France?" he dryly asked as he noticed the variety of petite fours on a tray behind the croissants.

Dumbledore looked up from his half-finished report, a secretive twinkle in his eye. "The House Elves need the practice, and I did not mind being their taster."

Any other day, his oblique comment might have intrigued him, but Severus ignored it in favor of eating his breakfast. Even with his emotions held so tightly in check, the croissant tasted like paper pulp in his mouth. He could not understand the coldblooded callousness of the wizard sitting before him, but he knew he had to speak before he exploded.

"I saw Hagrid this morning."

"Oh? He's well, I take it?"

Swallowing a large lump of croissant, he couldn't hide his sarcasm. "As good-natured and guileless as always. It must be advantageous to have such a loyal sycophant."

The older wizard looked up from his report, sharply eyeing his Potions Master. "Hagrid is loyal, yes, but he's far from a sycophant."

"True," he replied, his tone sharpening. "I have never seen anyone more devoted to you, Albus, except, perhaps, myself. Tell me, does your conscience ever feel a pang of remorse when you manipulate him like you so often have?"

"Severus, I have done only what I think—"

It was the resigned regret in the Headmaster's eyes that finally cracked his thin façade.

"Don't you dare say it, old man! Don't you dare say that you've only done what you thought best, or necessary, or any of the other excuses you've given throughout the years. I made a Vow! She's mine to protect, and you just used her as bait! Well, whatever little fantasy you may have had about Black's innocence, I can assure you that the use of the Killing Curse negates it! What the hell were you thinking?"

For once, the great Albus Dumbledore has no answer. In fact, he seemed to shrink in his chair.

"I had thought, since he spared her as a child . . . ."

There was nothing more he could say. Snape scowled at him until he calmed enough to speak.

"I would like to see the transcript of Black's trial."

The Headmaster regarded him thoughtfully. "Sirius Black did not stand trial, Severus. I thought you knew that."

Taken aback, he almost choked on another bite of croissant. "If you recall, Albus, I was in Azkaban awaiting my own trial at the time. Why was there no trial for such a horrific case? Did he confess?"

"The events were self-explanatory."

The answer only added to his rage. If it hadn't been for Dumbledore's explanation, his own actions would have been self-explanatory. Without the trial, he would be sitting in a cell in Azkaban, driven mad by guilt years ago. Everyone deserved a trial. He had been raised in the Muggle world long enough for that to be a cornerstone of his beliefs.

Hell, Lucius had gotten off claiming he had been Imperiused. He was frankly surprised Black hadn't claimed to have been coerced. The Dark Lord had been well known for his cruel methods of persuasion. No one who had aided him after being tortured or threatened had ever spent a day in that horrid prison.

"You went along with this?"

Dumbledore tiredly rubbed his right eye. "I was rather preoccupied with saving the Order's spy at the time."

His jaw clenched as he bit back a retort. He wasn't about to be manipulated by the Headmaster. It wasn't his fault that Black hadn't received a trial.

"Then, I will have to settle for seeing the memory of your conversation with the Minister of Magic."

Albus' eyebrows rose. The request had been a demand, not a question. Silently, the Headmaster opened the black cabinet containing his pensieve. Putting his wand to his temple, he extracted the pertinent memory and placed it into the shallow basin.

Watching the memory, Severus couldn't help but wonder how Cornelius Fudge had ever managed to become Minister of Magic. He'd never seen such a conceited, self-important aggrandizer in his life. Worse, nothing in the memory was significant, except . . . . Yes! There it was—the one thing that might give him an insight into Black's motivation. Fudge had mentioned it offhandedly, but to Snape it was his last hope. When visiting the prison, the Minister of Magic had given Sirius Black a copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

A look of triumph must have passed over his face while viewing the memory because Dumbledore's eyes bored into his as soon as his head jerked upright.

"You noticed something?"

"Perhaps. I must search the library before I say."

Without another word, Snape left the Headmaster's office, only belatedly realizing that he had simply done as he pleased with no regard to the elder wizard's wishes. As he walked through the empty corridor, however, he found that it didn't bother him nearly as much as it should.

* * *

><p>The library was closed, but Severus had no problem with the lock on the door. Madame Pince relied on intimidation rather than spells to keep out the truly curious. Passing by the shelves of books, he found what he was looking for in a dusty alcove towards the back.<p>

The periodical and newspaper section of the library had a neglected air to it. Most students were not interested in reading potions journals or articles about magical theory unless they were engaged in advanced studies. And, Madame Pince was too ill-disposed towards the students to subscribe to the popular teen magazines of the day. Many, like Hermione Granger or Cedric Diggory, read _The Daily Prophet_, but they quickly learned to purchase their own subscriptions. While Dumbledore had made it clear that Irma should stock newspapers, she did not make it easy for students to read them.

That was obvious from the way the back issues were filed. Instead of neat stacks, the newspapers were in haphazard piles, with no regard to date or title. He was going to have to go through them one by one. As he sorted the various newspapers, he wondered why the Hogwarts librarian hated them so much. Every other section of the library was pristine and orderly.

Finally finished, he looked at the five stacks he had made on the table. _The Daily Prophet_, while not the only wizarding newspaper in all of Britain, was by far the most well-read. He would start there first. Besides, a politician like Cornelius Fudge would not be caught dead in public reading a rag like _The Quibbler_.

He didn't need a calendar to remember the day Sirius Black had escaped. The date his life changed forever was etched indelibly in his mind. There were nights he fantasized about stealing a Time Tuner and saving Rose from the torture she had endured at the hands of those Muggle monsters. There were nights he wished he could have killed Sirius Black in his cell. There were nights he woke up in a cold sweat reliving the attack that had crippled him.

Worse were the nights when he couldn't sleep at all. Those were the nights when the guilt overwhelmed him. Those were the nights when he acknowledged it had taken a horrific tragedy to make him change. He hated that Rose had been attacked. And yet, he liked the person he was becoming. It was difficult to reconcile such conflicting emotions, especially given the fact that he had come to love Rose Potter as a daughter. How could he take any joy from her pain?

Abruptly, Severus realized that he had been staring unseeing at the July 30th edition of the Daily Prophet for at least five minutes. Letting out a deep breath, he focused on the task at hand. Efficiently, he scanned the newspaper from front to back, but there was no question. The answer was waving to him on the front page. He didn't understand why, but Sirius Black hadn't escaped prison to kill Rose; he had escaped prison to kill a Weasley.

A silver tabby cat interrupted his startling epiphany.

"Severus, come to Gryffindor Tower at once."

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><p>Dread filled him as ran down the corridors. McGonagall, Lupin and Flitwick were waiting near the portrait of Sir Cadogan, their bodies partially shielding him from a mass of black on the floor behind them. Lupin was visibly shaking as the knight animatedly brandished his sword at the unwelcome intruders.<p>

His three fellow professors regarded him with a mixture of sympathy and grief as Minerva slowly stepped away from the body. A strangled sob escaped from his throat as he recognized what lay on the floor.

Kneeling stiffly, he gently closed Grim's gray eyes, eyes that were already glassy in death. The mutt had been eviscerated, blood and intestines spilling onto the stone floor. He hoped that it had been quick; a more logical part of his brain told him it had not.

"Where is Rose?"

He rasped out the question, hardly able to speak. Still, in the silence, it reverberated off the walls.

Minerva laid a hand on his shoulder. "She's safe, Severus. I checked. Mr. Filch found Grim before any of the students had gone to breakfast. I've told everyone to stay in the Common Room until I grant them permission to leave."

"She needs to see."

Flitwick squeaked. "Are you certain that's wise?"

There were times when he wished the Charms and Defense professors had never discovered the truth of Rose's 'accident', and this was definitely one of those times. His answer was harsher than he intended.

"I have no idea if it's wise, Filius, but it is necessary. She must be convinced of the danger. If last night didn't teach her, then this most certainly will."

His tone softened as he thought of the stray that had pushed its way into both their hearts. Pleadingly, he looked up at Minerva. "She would wish to say goodbye."

Tight-lipped, she nodded grimly. Disappearing into the Common Room, she reappeared with Rose less than a minute later.

"GRIM!"

Rose's scream hurt Severus on a physical level. As he took her into his arms, he tried to will the ache in his chest away, but it would not leave him. He couldn't cry, not now, not when he needed to be strong for her. He sat on the floor with her in his lap, ignoring the agony in his leg while she sobbed against his shoulder.

Consumed by Rose's grief, it took him a while to understand that the others were trying to catch his attention. Annoyed by their interference, he angrily mouthed, "What?"

The three gravely pointed to the wall behind him, near the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room. Craning his neck, he could see what had not been there before. Written in blood that had dripped down the wall was the message: _**Your next, BITCH!**_

His eyes flew to Minerva, the obvious question on his lips. When she opened her mouth to speak, he shook his head and mimed writing with his wand. She immediately understood. Bright gold letters floated in the air. _Remus says it appeared as soon as Rose walked out of the portrait hole._

The child was too overcome by grief to take note of what was happening around her, and for once, Severus was grateful. She could not know that Grim had been killed to send her a most gruesome message. Concentrating, he answered wandlessly with a silver command. _Get rid of it. Now! She cannot see!_

Flitwick easily cancelled the spell, and no trace of blood remained. Only then did Snape push the hair out of Rose's face to look into her eyes.

"I need for you to go with Minerva and Filius, Rose. I will find out who did this and why, but I can only do that if I know you are safe. Can you understand that?"

Sniffling, she nodded, but not before kissing the dead dog's head. When she stood up, she was more composed, but her eyes were dull and she stared into space just as she had after her attack. He feared Grim's death had been a significant setback to her recovery.

"Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley will accompany you."

Rose didn't react, but Minerva questioned the need. He simply looked pointedly at his ward, and the Transfiguration professor immediately understood. "Severus is right. Your friends should be with you. Filius, will you take her to my office while I fetch Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger?"

Snape grabbed Minerva's arm before she could disappear. They silently watched Filius lead Rose down the hall.

"Do not allow Rose to walk anywhere by herself. Keep Weasley and Granger with her at all times, and make sure they are escorted by a competent witch or wizard. Percy, George and Fred Weasley are not to leave the castle today, either."

She regarded him with shocked outrage. "Severus! You can't actually think . . . ."

"Of course I don't," he impatiently replied. "But, I no longer believe Black entered the boys' dormitory by mistake. Let's just say I am being overly cautious until I can speak to their parents."

By the look on her face, she wasn't pleased by his answer, but she did accept it. When the portrait closed behind her, he angrily confronted Lupin.

"Out with it. I can tell by your reaction that this has some sort of personal significance to you."

"Black couldn't have done this," Remus declared unsteadily, his voice shaking with emotion.

"Of course he didn't," Severus agreed, curious to see if the Defense teacher had picked up on the same clue. "What interests me is how you became so certain of it."

Despondent, Remus leaned against the wall, rubbing his hands over his face. When he finally answered, he had regained some control over his emotions, although he was obviously shaken.

"Sirius may have been traitor and a mass murder and mad, but he would have never harmed a dog like this, Severus. In fact, I worried that he would use this particular dog to lure Rose away from the castle. That you and Rose have been alone for long periods of time with Grim calls into question every assumption I ever made about Sirius' guilt. I honestly don't know what to make of all of this, but I am certain now that he is dead."

Conflicting emotions warred within the Potions Master, and he had to tamp down his sudden desire to hex his colleague.

"Grim was Black's familiar, wasn't he? I always knew he was too smart for an ordinary stray. You think he's dead because no one could have killed the dog otherwise. You should have gone to Albus as soon as Black had breached Hogwarts, Lupin. We could have used his familiar to catch him that night. Perhaps it would have saved his life. It will be enlightening to hear what the Headmaster has to say about your betrayal. "

"Severus, please, it doesn't matter now. I can't—"

He grew cold, reflecting his inner rage at Grim's brutal murder. "You've never been anything more than a coward. You were a Prefect, Lupin. You were supposed to rein in your little friends. Instead, you watched them torment me. And, what has come of it? Potter's dead; his arrogance couldn't protect him in the end. Pettigrew, the simpering fool, died confronting Black—something you certainly didn't have the guts to do. And now, you tell me that Black is most likely dead. So much for the mighty Marauders. How does it feel knowing that the coward has outlived all of his companions?"

Before he could answer, Minerva reappeared with Ron and Hermione. They both gasped when they saw the bloodied corpse on the ground, Hermione going so far as to clamp her hand over her mouth to ward off nausea. The Deputy Headmistress glared accusingly at Severus, ordering him to have the mess cleaned up before the rest of her Gryffindors could see the carnage.

Left alone once more, Lupin ignored Snape's accusations, although he had paled to the point that his skin was tinged with gray. "Let me take care of Grim, Severus. You should be with Rose. I promise to give him the resting place he deserves."

Through gritted teeth, Severus made his intentions clear. If there were any doubt to his seriousness, he backed up the command with his wand.

"Leave. Now."

Reluctantly, Lupin left. Severus vanished the blood and entrails with a flick of his wand, and then pulled off his robe to carefully wrap Grim up in a makeshift burial shroud. Several people stared peculiarly at the black trousers and black shirt he wore, but no one made the mistake of speaking to him as he made his way to the Potions lab.

Once there, he gently laid the dog on a nearby table. Lupin had the right of it. Grim deserved a hero's burial. Just the night before, he had saved Severus' life. Tears came to his eyes and he quickly stopped that train of thought. Instead, he cast a complicated incantation in order to determine the spell that had killed Grim. As he did, he couldn't help but remember the last time he had been forced to use such a spell, the night Rose's heart had given out and he had discovered that she had been stunned five times.

Not surprisingly, he detected the presence of the Cutting Curse and the Entrails-Expelling Curse. More surprisingly, he identified the presence of several charms that had been placed on the body after death.

_Finite Incantatem_.

The body of the massive black dog rapidly shrunk in size as it changed color. When the transformation was complete, the corpse in question was not a huge black mutt, but the remains of a fluffy white poodle.

Damn. As much as he hated it, he was going to have to have another conversation with Albus—as soon as he made sure that Helena Gamp had made it safely out of Hogwarts. Her familiar certainly hadn't.


	29. The Top of the List

Author's Notes – A thousand apologies for the length between updates. In June, I will be moving cross country, so I'm busy getting ready for that, and the time I have for writing is shrinking. Worse, I had a difficult time writing this chapter. While I knew I wanted to get from point A to point B, it took me a long time to devise a way to do it. Hope it doesn't feel too contrived. Thanks for your patience!

A special thank you to Very Small Prophet, AvadaK3, aurorianskies, Siriusly Insane chick, FleurSuoh and Rumour of an Alchemist for reviewing the last chapter. Wow, I don't think I've ever had that much feedback on one chapter before. Thank you also to everyone reading and putting this story on favorites or alerts. I have been pleasantly surprised by the interest in it. I hope you enjoy the new chapter, and I promise I will update as soon as I can.

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><p>Severus Snape hated many things in life, and ignorance was at the top of the list. He had always believed ignorance to be the sign of a lazy mind. Ignorance was dangerous. As a student, ignorance earned you the ridicule of your peers. As a teacher, their contempt. As a spy, it could get you killed. As Rose Potter's guardian, it was well on its way to driving him mad.<p>

"Poppy? Poppy? POPPY!"

"Merlin's beard, Severus! What has gotten into you? Keep your voice down or you'll wake up my . . . patient? Where is Draco?"

Out of breath, Severus glared at the school matron. "Actually, Madame, I am more interested in learning the location of Miss Gamp."

"Helena? Her parents took her away last night. Poor child, in the rush to pack, she couldn't find her familiar. Draco promised he'd put a notice on the board and inform her if anyone found that cute little poodle.

"You are certain she left the castle?"

Madame Pomfrey looked at him as if he'd sprouted wings. "Of course I'm certain, Severus. Albus personally escorted the Gamps to the train station in Hogsmeade. I would have informed you, but he said you needed your sleep. Why? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied with practiced ease. "I simply wished to bid her farewell and express my regret that her time at Hogwarts was not what it should have been."

"Oh, that's very kind of you. I'm sure she'd appreciate a letter. She asked about you before she left."

"I'll do that, of course." Relieved that the young girl was safe even if her dog had not fared as well, Snape abruptly shifted gears. "You say Draco is missing?"

Suddenly, Poppy looked uncomfortable. "Not missing, per se. I told Draco he was well enough to go back to his dorm. I simply thought that after his father's visit last night, he might have wanted to spend some extra time here resting."

"Lucius was here?"

The usually kindhearted witch made a grimace of distaste. "Unfortunately. He appeared an hour after you left. He seemed quite upset that Narcissa hadn't informed him of Draco's injuries. Worse, he told Draco that it was his own fault that he had been injured in the first place. He told him he had no business being out of the castle last night and that he deserved everything he got."

Although technically true, Severus wished he could have been there to defend Draco against his father. The man was cruel and vicious and . . . . Wait. Narcissa hadn't told him. Did that mean Albus had contacted him personally? He mentally added that to the list of everything he needed to discuss with the Headmaster—again.

"Thank you for the information, Poppy. Next time, however, please inform me immediately if any of my students' parents visit them in the Hospital Wing."

She flushed. "Certainly, Severus. I knew you would have liked to have been informed, but Professor Dumbledore had a point. You did need your rest. Though, I should have contacted you regardless."

"See that you do."

Preoccupied, he answered in a manner that was far more like the old Severus than the man he had become since rescuing Rose. The Potions Master wasn't even aware of the hurt look on the compassionate school matron's face as he left the Hospital Wing. His mind had already shifted gears as he anticipated his meeting with Albus.

* * *

><p>"Chocolate Frog."<p>

Standing on the guarded staircase as it wound its way up to the Headmaster's office, Severus didn't know how to begin the conversation with Dumbledore. He felt as if he stood on the edge of a precipice during a ferocious storm. His mind swirled with clues and portents and possibilities, but try as he might, he could make no sense of the attacks on Rose. He knew he needed the Headmaster's help; he just hated having to ask for it.

Walking unannounced into the eclectic office, Severus noticed the lack of food first. It seemed that Albus always had a tray of sweets or a handful of candy at the ready, but now there was nothing, not even a steaming pot of tea on his desk. Secondly, his robes were gray, tinged with only a hint of silver along the edges. For Dumbledore this was practically funeral attire. The most disturbing sight, however, was not the imposing wizard's appearance or lack of treats; it was the presence of the visitor standing forbiddingly in front of his desk, his walking stick pointed at Dumbledore as if it were a weapon.

He quickly took the offensive. "I know they say the wand makes the wizard, Lucius, but is it really necessary to compensate for your obvious deficits by wielding one quite that large?"

Incensed, the elder Malfoy whipped around, not a single wisp of his blond hair flying out of place as his lips curled into an ugly grin.

"Ah, the cripple. I was just telling Albus that the Board of Governors wished to discuss the competency of certain Hogwarts instructors. Your name, of course, came up frequently."

"I'm sure it did," he answered coolly before ignoring his former ally. "Headmaster, I came to discuss a matter of some urgency. However, I see that you are otherwise engaged. Is there a time when it would be more convenient to meet?"

Dumbledore smiled benignly as if there wasn't a lethal level of tension in the room. "Your timing, as always, is impeccable, Severus. Mr. Malfoy was just leaving. Make yourself comfortable while I show him to the door."

From the expression on Lucius Malfoy's face, it was clear he didn't appreciate his abrupt departure or the reason for his leave taking. Though he walked with Dumbledore, his eyes never left Snape's. Severus, for his part, kept his wand at the ready until the disagreeable wizard was out the door and down the stairs.

Returning to his seat, the Headmaster's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Well, my boy, you certainly do know how to make an entrance. Though, I must say, I appreciate your rescue. His ranting was becoming tedious."

"I can imagine, although I am curious to know the topic."

Leaning back, the older wizard chuckled. "I'm surprised you haven't already guessed. Indeed, it was you, Severus. When I told Lucius that I had no intention of replacing you as the Slytherin Head of House, he became rather upset."

He should have seen that one coming. Really, he couldn't blame Lucius for asking that he be replaced. He blamed himself for everything that had led to Helena Gamp's withdrawal from the school. If he had been paying closer attention to his students, perhaps he could have ferreted out those who had wished her ill before she had been bullied into leaving for Beauxbatons.

"It is not an unreasonable request, Headmaster. I failed to anticipate the level of animosity towards Miss Gamp in her own House, and I did nothing to stop it from escalating."

"Miss Gamp's torment was indeed unfortunate, my boy, but I doubt Minerva, or Filius would have handled it much differently. Besides, Lucius was not here to protest your actions in regard to Miss Gamp. He specifically said that you are a bad influence on his son."

"I see." And, he did. Draco had been acting strangely all year. Twice now, he had risked his life to save Rose. It was not the type of behavior of which a supposedly reformed Death Eater would approve.

"Did you have something you wished to discuss with me? Or did you invent that for my sake?"

Ill at ease, the Potions Master paced the cluttered office. "I am in need of advice, Albus. Though I am loath to admit it, I find myself preoccupied with these attacks on Rose."

Unexpectedly, the Headmaster glanced at a clock he kept on his desk. "Perhaps this is not the best time. Shouldn't you be in class in fifteen minutes?

His pace quickened. "I have already written the assignment on the board. It has no practical component. And, Madame Hooch has promised me that she will oversee the class."

"Rolanda? Well, she does have a free period this morning. By all means, continue."

"I simply cannot determine Black's motives, Albus, and without understanding his aim, I fear for Rose's safety and the safety of the rest of the school. He must be stopped before he attacks again."

"I agree that time is running out. The escalation of the attacks is troubling. However, I fear I have no more insight than you."

Snape wanted to see Albus' reaction to his newest tidbit of information before he informed him that Grim was still alive. He wasn't going to allow Rose to be used as bait twice. "Lupin all but admitted that Grim was Black's familiar."

He had expected surprise, shock or perhaps disappointment that the wolf hadn't confided in him, but Severus was not prepared for the look of vindication on the wizard's face.

"If true, then Black could have killed Rose a long time ago. I've always suspected that he was innocent."

"Innocent or not, he tried to kill Rose last night."

"Did he?"

Snape hated it when Dumbledore played Socrates. For once he wanted answers, not more questions. Well, two could play at that game.

"If not Black, then who?"

Once more, he was thrust into the position of a student who had just pleased his teacher. The Headmaster's eyes lit up.

"That is the key, is it not? Who is trying to kill Rose if not Sirius Black? Who knows enough to use Black as a cover?"

Damn the man! Why couldn't he simply speak his mind? "Albus, there are too many people who wish Rose dead to count. How can I determine the who if I cannot determine the why?"

The older wizard stood and patted him fondly on the shoulder. "Severus, I don't say this often enough, but you are truly a remarkable young wizard. Your deductive reasoning is unsurpassed. I have every confidence that you will puzzle this out."

With that, the Headmaster ushered his Potions Master out of his office. Only when he was standing in the hallway did Snape realize the speed with which Dumbledore had accepted Black's innocence. Had the manipulative old coot known it all along? Or was he merely grasping at straws as a salve to his conscience? Rose could have been killed last night along with his two Slytherins, all because Albus felt confident enough to use her as bait for Black.

Fuming, he left his meeting with more questions than answers.

* * *

><p>"Severus! Severus Snape! Just where do you think you're going?"<p>

Startled, the Potions Master paused on steps leading down to the dungeons. A red-faced Minerva McGonagall raced to catch up.

"I was going to my classroom, Minerva, as should you. Lessons begin in five minutes."

Then why did you ask Rolanda to substitute for you? I have been waiting for you in my office. Rose hasn't spoken once since seeing that poor dog. I'm going to have to send her to Poppy if she doesn't respond soon. She's had a horrible shock! It isn't like you to ignore her like this."

"Damn it, Minerva! I am not ignoring her! I have been trying to protect her! But, I cannot accomplish that until I know who is trying to hurt her. Take her to Madame Pomfrey if you must, but I must think!"

"Think? What do you need to think about, Severus? Sirius Black is trying his best to kill her. And, when he couldn't, he decided to terrorize her instead. Now, you march up to my office and forget about this nonsense that there is some mystery to all this and go help that poor child grieve for the loss of your dog."

He sneered at the stern witch. "Do you honestly believe that Black would scrawl out a threat written in blood and not bother to spell it correctly?"

She sniffed disdainfully, more than willing to stand up to his scorn. "Sirius Black spent almost twelve years in Azkaban. I'd be surprised he could spell his own name by now, much less care about making a good impression on a note written on a wall, Severus. Maybe it's time you stop looking for plots and accept the fact that Black nearly killed both of you last night."

"Fine," he ground out. Let's accept for the sake of argument that Black is the one behind all the attacks. Why Rose? Why now? Hagrid says he could have killed Rose at Godric's Hollow, but he didn't. Why wait twelve years in Azkaban only to escape to kill her now?"

Irritably, she shook her finger at him. "Why? There doesn't have to be a why, Severus! You might as well ask why he attacked Peter Pettigrew so viciously that the only part of his body they retrieved was his finger!"

"What?"

In that moment of clarity, he could hear the beating of his heart as it pounded against his chest. It suddenly all made sense. Lupin's obvious grief over the supposed death of a stray. The picture of the Weasleys in the _Daily Prophet_. The phrase, 'he's at Hogwarts'. The rat scurrying in the dungeons. And, above all, Rose's voice as she informed him that Weasely's pet was missing part of his right paw, much like a human might be missing a finger.

In the midst of his epiphany, his heart grew cold as a memory of Rose bubbled to the surface.

". . . . _Scabbers gives me the creeps. I keep seeing him in odd places, almost like he's following me or something. I wish Ron hadn't brought his pet to Hogwarts in the first place."_

And, there it was, the last piece of the puzzle. There was the reason why Black would have entered the boy's dormitory instead of the girl's. But far worse was the thought that Peter Pettigrew was might be desperate enough by now to try anything to escape Black's vengeance. He had been stalking Rose for months. There was no telling what he would do when truly backed into a corner.

"Severus, are you quite alright? You look a little pale."

He blinked, and his vision cleared. Minerva stood by his side, no longer angry. Instead, she gripped his elbow, worry etched into the wrinkles of her face.

Still in a daze, he replied woodenly. "Repeat your last words to me."

His apparent disconnect from reality must have frightened her. She put the backside of her hand on his forehead, searching for signs of fever before she attempted to lead him to the Hospital Wing.

"I said you look a little pale. Why don't you have a lie down while Poppy takes a look at you?"

"Not that," he snapped, finally pulling himself together. "I asked you to repeat the part about Pettigrew."

"What? That all they retrieved of his body was the index finger of his right hand? I thought everyone knew that."

"Not everyone." This time, he gripped her arms, willing her to pay attention. "Listen to me, Minerva. Rose is in danger this very minute. Do not leave her side. I'm going to follow up on some new information. I'll tell you everything as soon as I return, but for now, you must inform Mr. Filch that all rats in Hogwarts are to be killed. This is vitally important. And tell him to keep the carcasses for me. Can you do that?"

"Severus, I really think you should visit the Hospital Wing."

"How many times must I tell you? I am not feverish! Listen to me! Rose is in danger. You must do as I ask or she or one of her friends is going to get hurt."

Loosening his grip, he ran upstairs to the main floor, leaving McGonagall sputtering on the stairs.

"But, Severus! Rose needs you here! What shall I tell her?"

"Tell her that I've gone to find Grim!"

And, with that, he sprinted outside.

* * *

><p>Jogging to Hagrid's hut, Snape ignored the stares of the first year Care of Magical Creatures students and Hagrid's demand to know what was wrong. He slowed to a walk as he entered the Forbidden Forest, stopping once the trees grew thick enough to mask his position.<p>

With a brief pang of regret, he summoned yet another roast from the kitchens, promising himself to apologize to the house elves at some point. Wand at the ready, he walked deeper into the forest quietly calling for his dog. Only, if he were correct, his dog wasn't a dog at all. He should have known the Marauders would have been arrogant enough to attempt to become Animagus on their own. He wondered what form James had taken; much as he wished it, he doubted the prig had taken the form of an ass.

"Grim! Grim! Here, boy!"

Sure enough, a large black mutt came loping to his side. Snape couldn't bring himself to pet the creature now that he suspected what it was, but he did muster enough enthusiasm to toss the roast about ten feet away. When Grim began to eat, he pulled out his wand. He would know one way or the other very soon.

His hands were shaking, hardly surprising considering the circumstances. His emotions were pinging between a murderous rage and abject terror. Grim had been a cherished confidant, but the thought of telling the same secrets to Black mortified him. As a teenager, Black had done his best to kill him. Grim had saved his life. How could he reconcile the two?

There was a part of him that didn't want to know. It would be so much easier to pretend that Grim was nothing more than a loyal stray. But, in so doing, he would never find the answers to his questions, questions that could save Rose. As much as it pained him to admit it, he needed Black.

Taking a deep breath, Severus slowly exhaled. He had tricked the Dark Lord, spied for Dumbledore, taught the seemingly unteachable year after year. He could face the man who had tormented him during the most difficult period of his life. He was no longer that scarred kid who had wanted so desperately to fit in. He had grown, matured, he—hell, he was stalling. If he didn't hurry, Grim would finish his breakfast and return to his lair in the forest.

The spell to return an Animagus to his human form wasn't nearly as complicated as the magic required to turn a wizard into an Animagus. With a few flicks of his wand, Severus sent the spell hurtling at Grim. For an instant, nothing happened. The dog continued to eat, and Snape spent an extra half second hoping he had jumped to the wrong conclusion.

Then, the body of the dog lengthened; the fur shrank; the nose shortened into something much more human. The transfiguration finally complete, Severus took time to study his adolescent nemesis, taking great pleasure in the fact that Black continued to eat kneeling on all fours, much like the dog he had become.

The fugitive was lanky to the point of being underweight. In fact, if he were any skinnier, he would have been skeletal. No wonder he had returned for the food time and again. His hair was as black as he remembered, but instead of it falling in wavy locks, it was tangled, dirty and matted. He ate with the intensity of the starving, scarcely understanding that he was no longer a dog.

Finally, however, Black noticed something had changed and took a long look at his hands, which were mud stained and dirty. When the wizard finally met Severus' gaze, there was more than a hint of madness and desperation in his eyes. Snape didn't care. He was enjoying his humiliation far too much.

"Give me one good reason not to kill you."


	30. A Mystery Inside an Enigma

Author's Notes - Yes, I know; I missed the Friday posting again. This time, I had a slew of relatives in my house and no polite way to escape to the computer. If it's any consolation, I plan on updating again on Friday, so you should have two chapters this week. Thanks to everyone who is patient enough to put up with the sporadic postings. And, a special thanks to FleurSuoh, Chocolate and caramel, iwright, AvadaK3 and RB for reviewing. I do appreciate the feedback. Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.

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><p>"<em>Give me one good reason not to kill you."<em>

Springing to his feet, Sirius Black held his hands out to show he was defenseless. Snape wasn't impressed; he'd seen enough to know that his nemesis couldn't pose any type of physical or magical threat. He had no wand and his face was gaunt with hunger. Completing the picture were the stolen, too short robes and the drab gray prison uniform, which was practically shredded. It gave Severus immense joy to witness such a proud, arrogant ass being reduced to such a pathetic state.

"I didn't do it! I swear! It was Peter, Peter Pettigrew! He was their Secret Keeper! I swear to it! Please, Severus, you must believe me!"

"Don't call me Severus!" he screamed, his hands shaking with barely suppressed rage. "You have no right!"

"Snape," the desperate wizard immediately corrected. "You can't kill me. I didn't do it." Abruptly, his expression transformed into one of hope. "Wait! You can't kill me! I saved your life last night! You owe me."

"Nice try, Black," he spat out, his rage growing the longer he stood in front of the wizard who had turned his adolescence into a living hell. "But since you did your best to kill me with your little joke while we were at Hogwarts, I'd say that makes us even."

He was suddenly standing inches from Black with no recollection of walking towards him. Without a thought, he took his cane and smashed it on the back of his knees, sending him to the ground. Yes, that was much better. To see his enemy kneel before him gave the former Death Eater a thrill of pure elation. He no longer shouted, but his measured voice had never been more deadly.

"Did it ever occur to you that your escape might have tipped Pettigrew off? You've put Rose in grave danger all for your selfish desire for revenge. She told me that she found the rat at the foot of her bed one night. Do you know what that makes me want to do to you, Black? Does it? I would kill you swiftly for my sake, but for hers, I swear by Merlin I will kill you very, very slowly."

An uncomfortable pressure settled between his eyes as he denied his magic what his heart so dreadfully desired. It could all be over in a moment; a few flicks, a forbidden spell, and a bolt of deadly green could be sent hurtling at Black, silencing him forever.

For a feat so heroic, the Minister of Magic would personally present him the Order of Merlin First class. He'd be forever known as the wizard who had killed the dangerous, mad Death Eater Sirius Black. His past would be forgiven; he would have the accolade of his peers. Only he would know the truth of the matter.

It was a tempting choice. The pain of his humiliation, old and new, never truly waned. The old Severus would have done it long before now. The old Severus would not have considered the possibility of Black's innocence, not when the wizard's guilt fit so perfectly into his worldview.

He was not the old Severus. While he yearned to destroy Black, he knew that was a road down which he could not travel. That path led to destruction, and ultimately she would be the one to pay the price. For her sake, he had changed, and in so doing, he had found his own redemption. To turn his back on that now and walk away would wound her more than Black or Pettigrew or even Voldemort ever could. As much as it pained him, he would have to be the better man, all in the name of—

"ROSE!" Black screamed, his last chance at salvation erupting from his mouth as an inhuman screech. "You can't kill me because of Rose. You love her; don't try to deny it. You can't kill me for Rose's sake."

Snape's capitulation must have shown because Black slowly stood, although he kept his hands out at his side. Gone were the traces of insanity and fear that had so recently distorted the gaunt wizard's face. In its place, he radiated conviction, although it bordered on fanaticism. It seemed there was a little bit of mad in Sirius Black after all.

"Even if you managed to convince everyone I was guilty, one day someone would discover the truth, and it would kill her to know that you murdered me in cold blood. You won't do that to her. I know you, Snape. I've listened to you this year. No matter how much you hate me, you love Rose more."

Begrudgingly, the Potions Master pointed his wand at the ground, but the pressure against his eyes would not abate. "I should kill you for your charade alone. Was it fun watching the cripple try to walk, Black? Did you enjoy hearing of my shame? You have stripped me bare. I have no more secrets to give. So go ahead and get it over with. Laugh at how pathetic Snivellus has become. Loathe me for the part I played in Lily's death. Do it now, because if you ever tell a single soul anything I spoke to Grim in confidence, I'll find a way to kill you that looks so accidental no one would ever suspect me, including Rose."

Sirius Black threw his head back and laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks. It was only after Snape pointed his wand at him once more that he sobered.

"The only funny thing about any of this is how oblivious you are, Severus. You're a fucking hero! She'd be dead by now if it wasn't for you. You really think I'm going to betray you after what you've done for her? She's my goddaughter. I love her, too."

That, by far, was the worst thing he could have said. With lightning speed, Snape cast _Reducto_ time and again at the trees around them. The tops of the sturdy oaks and stately willows burst into splinters before toppling to the ground.

"Love her? You left her! You're the reason she slept in a cupboard for almost eleven years. You let your thirst for vengeance get in the way of your duty, but I expect no less from a Black."

"Wouldn't you have done the same?" he challenged, the wildness returning to his eyes. "If you had known that Peter was the one who had told Voldemort how to get to Lily, wouldn't you have gone after him too?"

"That's not the point!" he yelled, his anger building once again. "Of course, I would have gone after him. It's my fault Lily died! But, if he had killed me it wouldn't have mattered. I have nothing to live for!"

Sirius clenched his jaw. Ignoring the wand pointed directly at his chest, he crossed his arms and stared directly into Snape's eyes. Severus could feel his half-hearted attempt at legilimency and quickly blocked it. It gave him a profound feeling of satisfaction. Black was truly pitiful. His sneer was punctuated by a smirk.

"That was incredibly foolish. You're lucky I didn't hex you. What could you possibly want to know that I haven't already told you?"

"You said have."

"What? What nonsense are you spouting now?" Snape had no idea what he was talking about, but it was becoming increasingly apparent that he had escaped Azkaban more than a little unhinged.

"When you were talking about how you would have gone after Peter, you said you have nothing to live for, not had, Severus."

"Don't call me Severus," he growled, refusing to acknowledge the truth in the observation. "And don't make too much of a slip of the tongue. You've got enough problems, Black, without inventing ones for me."

Even with his threadbare, ill-fitting clothes and scrawny appearance, the escaped fugitive suddenly resembled the cocky young wizard he had been at school.

"Problems? Not with you helping me, Snape. You're going to get me into the castle; I'm going to kill Peter; and then we'll take his rotting carcass to the Wizengamot to prove my innocence. See? No problems."

"Fucking idiot," he mumbled under his breath. He might have resolved not to kill his childhood enemy, but that didn't mean he was any closer to liking him. Right then, he couldn't stand the sight of him, so he began to stalk towards the castle.

"Severus! Where are you going?"

"Unlike you, I know the meaning of duty. I shall return shortly with Rose. You will maintain your charade. She needs to see Grim, not you. Do I make myself clear?"

"But, you know I'm innocent."

"That and a couple of sickles will get you on the Knight Bus, Black. You do remember that I was a Death Eater, don't you? My testimony of your innocence will not help your case. Besides, I refuse to be sent to Azkaban for harboring a fugitive, which is what will happen if anyone else discovers you're an unregistered Animagus that takes the form of a huge black dog. So, you will stay here, out of sight, until I return with Rose."

The fugitive's eye narrowed. "I remember exactly what you were, Snape. And, I know how much you hate me. What's to prevent you from turning me in as soon as you return to the castle?"

He grinned before he turned his back on his former nemesis. Really, the desperate wizard made it far too easy.

"Nothing, Black. Nothing at all. You might do well to remember that."

* * *

><p>Opening the door to Minerva's office without knocking, Severus was struck by two things. One, his stern colleague had taken his warning seriously; she had her wand pointed straight at his heart. Two, Rose sat like a wooden statue on the chair in the front of Minerva's desk, her face a blank mask.<p>

"Rose?"

She didn't answer.

"She hasn't spoken since reaching my office, Severus. I was waiting for you to take her to the Hospital Wing."

Glancing at the stern witch, he noticed the pictures on her clock were shaking their heads in regret as they conversed quietly amongst themselves.

"You've talked to Mr. Filch?"

"Yes, he has orders to kill every rat inside Hogwarts, although . . . ."

When she didn't finish her sentence, he impatiently prodded her. "Although what, Minerva?"

"Although Mr. Weasley raised quite a ruckus when I informed the students. His pet rat is missing, and he fears it will be killed with the rest."

"I certainly hope so," he muttered too quietly for her to hear. Then, he carefully knelt next to Rose.

"Rose, I need you to come with me. Can you do that?"

For a few seconds, she didn't react at all, and he was afraid that he would have to take her to the Hospital Wing just as Minerva had suggested. Finally, however, her eyes lost their dead stare to focus on his face. Slowly, she held out her hand.

It was more than he had hoped. Explaining to McGonagall that they were going somewhere more private to speak, he led Rose outside the castle, retracing his earlier trek to the Forbidden Forest. When they passed Hagrid's hut, she seemed to understand where they were heading for she began to drag her feet. Patiently, he stopped to explain.

"I know you don't like the forest. Frankly, neither do I. I assure you that I wouldn't be taking you in there again if it wasn't important. I'm asking you to trust me. You'll understand very soon. I promise."

While she remained silent, she followed him more readily after that. Unerringly, he brought her to the exact spot where he had confronted Black less than an hour ago, but the damn dog was nowhere to be seen. As he stared into the trees, he had to fight the urge to draw his wand. If Black messed this up, then he wouldn't need an excuse to kill him.

He heard Grim's barking before he saw the mutt. For an instant, he tensed, but the noise had not been made in warning. Suddenly, there he was, bounding up to Rose with his tail wagging. The young witch stiffened, taking three steps backwards until she was standing behind her guardian.

"It's alright, Rose. The dog inside the castle was charmed to look like Grim, nothing more. Whoever committed such a cowardly act used a different dog."

He didn't see the need to burden her with the identity of the dog that had been killed. Instead, he watched as she ran to Grim, buried her head in his matted fur and cried until he feared she would never stop. Black, for his part, did an adequate job keeping in character. He sat docilely while she sobbed, although he tilted his head in question, no doubt hoping for some sort of explanation.

When her cries didn't abate, Severus gently pulled her to him. Eventually, she spoke, although she was practically incoherent.

"I thought you'd hate me. Send me back. My fault. Always my fault. Everyone I love dies. Better off without me."

The mutt began to bark loudly in disagreement, and Severus shot him a sour look to get him to shut up. He wasn't so dense as to misunderstand her meaning.

"Miss Potter!" His voice cracked like an angry whip. "I have never heard such ridiculous notions spewing from your mouth. While I understand that you are upset, I refuse to tolerate such nonsense. Obviously, your listening skills need to be fine-tuned, so allow me to reiterate what I have been trying to tell you all year. I will never send you back to the Dursleys. Never. Do you understand?"

Wide-eyed, she nodded to indicate that she did. Relieved beyond belief, his demeanor softened and he gave her a wry half-grin. "Perhaps it is I who should apologize to you. You're stuck with the bat of the dungeons until you come of age. I imagine it will make dating while at Hogwarts awkward to say the least."

The look on her face was priceless. Obviously, she had never considered that aspect of the guardianship. For his part, Severus was glad that he had temporarily distracted her from the misplaced guilt that threatened to drown her. His tone softened further.

"None of this is your fault, Rose."

The animation abruptly left her as she gave him the hated half-shrug.

"None of it, Rose, you must believe me. You are not responsible for the actions of others. You do not cause misfortune to those you love. Your parents died protecting you, yes, but that is what parents who love their children do. Don't dishonor their sacrifice by thinking that the world would be a better place without you. It wouldn't."

During his speech, Grim had rested his head on her lap and started to whine. While Severus wished he could shove the irritating wizard away, the dog's actions seemed to help pull Rose out of the emotional hole she had dug for herself. Absently, she rubbed his ears.

"I always feel like it's my fault, you know, Professor? I'm not completely thick; leaving Grim dead outside the common room was meant as a message for me. I saw how upset you were, too. You were practically crying. I didn't want you to hate me for getting your dog killed."

"That is not a concern you need have. I could never hate you; I promise."

"Even if I do something really horrible?"

"In that unlikely event, I might be angry or disappointed. I would most certainly yell, but I could never hate you."

"But why? I don't understand, Professor. You made a vow to protect me; I get that. But, why wouldn't you hate me for causing so much trouble?"

He swore he could see the mangy mutt smirking. Of course Black would enjoy his discomfort. After listening to his musings disguised as Grim, Black knew how he felt, and he knew that he had tried to express those feelings to Rose on more than one occasion. But, he had always spoken in general terms. That wouldn't do today, not after what she had said. Severus took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

"I could never hate you, Rose. I love you too much. I regret that I have not made that absolutely clear to you before now, but it is not in my nature to be so open with my feelings. Papers or no, I consider you my daughter in every way that matters. And, I would be devastated if something were to happen to you. As I told you before, I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

Nervously, he watched her emotions as they rolled over her face. First, she blinked a few times with incomprehension. Then, her mouth opened in shock. Closing it, she pondered his declaration as critically as might a shrewd barrister. Finally, her lips parted in a joyful smile that threatened to illuminate the shady forest. In fact, she was so exuberant that she hopped up as soon as she gave him a brief, crushing hug.

"Wow, that's just . . . I don't know. Brilliant? Incredible? Unbelievable? I mean, no offense, Professor, I knew you cared about me, but this is . . . I mean, I've never had anyone . . . at least, not since my parents died . . . . Oh, this is brilliant!"

Grabbing his cane, he stood stiffly. It was all he could do not to laugh at her giddiness. "So, I take it that I meet with your approval?"

Her smile grew wider, and he took that for a yes. Gradually, though, her initial exuberance diminished. "Um . . . does this mean I have to call you Dad now?"

"In class and in front of your classmates, I expect you to call me Professor, just as any other student. Other than that, I leave it to you. However, I believe that name might be best reserved for James, don't you?"

Her look of undisguised relief told him that he had made the right call. All too soon, however, she remembered why they had been standing in the middle of the Forbidden Forest in the first place. Anxiously, she fiddled with her charm bracelet.

"Do you think Sirius Black will go after Grim again?"

Grim put his paws over his eyes and whined, which only increased Rose's concern for the supposed stray.

"Please, Professor, can't we take him inside? You were as upset as I was when you thought he'd died."

Black was in wholehearted agreement with the suggestion, and did his best to convey his enthusiasm to Rose. Snape, however, thought it was an incredibly bad idea, on several levels. Crossing his arms, he prepared himself for a fight while speaking pointedly to the escaped wizard as much as the child before him.

"Grim stays. I can't imagine he has the discipline necessary to stay inside the castle without causing utter chaos. Besides, I don't wish to advertise the fact that he is still alive. Whoever killed that other dog and made it to look like Grim wanted to frighten you, Rose. It would be best if we let the perpetrator believe he had succeeded.

"You don't have to worry about that, Professor. I'm plenty scared, especially after last night. The reminder this morning really wasn't necessary."

"No, it wasn't," he agreed, pushing that piece of information to the side to study at a later time.

The third year's stomach chose that moment to let out a loud growl. Severus raised his eyebrows. Of course she hadn't eaten anything yet that morning. It was time to return to the castle, teach his afternoon class and then reassess his strategy for killing Pettigrew. Considering the shifty nature of his prey, he doubted Mr. Filch's ability to ensnare him with the rest of Hogwart's vermin. Telling Rose that it was high time she ate breakfast, he started towards the castle.

"Wait, Professor! You haven't told Grim goodbye! I know you were scared this morning, too, but it wasn't his fault."

He held back a groan. He was so going to kill Black for this. Slowly, he approached the Animagus who eagerly ran to him, playfully wagging his tail. Bending down, he patted the dog's head with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

"I'm glad it wasn't you in the hallway this morning, mutt," he begrudgingly admitted, shocked to discover that he spoke the truth. No one deserved to die like that, even someone as arrogant as Sirius Black.

The brief flash of sympathy Snape had felt for his childhood enemy promptly fizzled when Black as Grim jumped up to put his paws on his chest. Leaning heavily on his cane, Severus fought to stay upright. As soon as Black noticed his difficulty, he got down, but not before licking the Potions Master several times on the chin. Snape's eyes were murderous as he wiped dog slobber off his face. He itched to pull out his wand, but Rose soon pulled him back to reality.

"That was priceless, Professor. For a minute there, I thought you were going to hex him. I'm sure he didn't mean to almost knock you over. He's usually good about not jumping up on you, but after last night, I guess he forgot."

Inadvertently, she reminded him of the huge debt he owed the Animagus. This time, his sentiment was more genuine. "He was a very brave and loyal dog last night. I suppose a few spirited antics are to be expected."

Leaning down, he scratched Grim's back as an excuse to whisper heatedly in Black's ear.

"Just because you saved my life, does not mean you get to play me for the fool. Try any more stunts like that, and I'll personally feed you to the acromantula. If you can curb your enthusiasm for childish pranks, I need you to keep a lookout for Pettigrew on the grounds. Understood?"

Surprisingly, the dog barked in agreement before trotting deeper into the forest. As Severus led Rose back to the castle, he realized that for all of his reasoning, he still had not unraveled the mystery that was Sirius Black. The man was an enigma. And, he despised that.


	31. Potions and Snitches

Author's Notes - A big thanks to RB, FleurSuoh, EllaPotter1988, VerySmallProphet, iwright and AvadaK3 for taking the time to review the last chapter. I hope this one doesn't disappoint. It really should be split in half and made into two chapters because the action shifts so radically, but I dislike short postings (I read too quickly to enjoy them.), so just pretend you're getting two for the price of one. Thanks for reading!

**I am so embarrassed for posting the wrong chapter! Here's the correct one.**

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><p>By the time Severus and Rose reached the castle, the house elves were in the middle of lunch preparations. Dobby, however, was more than happy to provide them with a tray of French pastries and pumpkin juice.<p>

"We is practicing, Mistress Potter! Professor Dumbledore said that us house elves need to expand our menu next year. We gets to cook borscht next!"

Rose obviously had no idea what borscht was, but she faked enthusiasm for the dish nonetheless. When they had sat down at the head table in the Great Hall to eat their snack, Severus couldn't hide his amusement.

"I hope you like beets."

"Not really, why?"

"Because you just promised your friend to be his next food taster. Borscht is filled with beets and cabbage."

"Ugh. I'll have to get Ron to go with me. Maybe he could eat my portion. He'll pretty much eat anything."

"So I've noticed. Professor McGonagall informed me that his rat is missing again?"

Taking a big bite of an éclair, she paused to chew before answering. "Yeah, Scabbers escaped a few days ago. Crookshanks, that's Hermione's cat, had been chasing him all over the common room, but he managed to get out the portrait hole."

"Have you seen him since?"

Involuntarily, she shuddered. "Where haven't I seen him? The girl's bathroom, the library, Divination class—Ron thought he saw him in Professor McGonagall's office this morning, but he ran into a hole in the wall before he could catch him. I almost hope Filch finds him before Ron does."

"Mr. Filch," he corrected absently as he considered Pettigrew's latest actions. Like Black, the traitor was a mystery. During their school years, he had known the chubby Marauder for a coward, a trait that lent itself to his hiding out as a rat for over a decade. And, he could understand why the sneak had run. A number of people would gladly see him Kissed once his role in the Potters' deaths became known. He could even comprehend Pettigrew's rationale for following Rose around the castle. She would serve as a useful hostage if Black cornered him.

What he couldn't understand were the attacks against Rose. Now that Black was no longer a suspect, Peter Pettigrew was the obvious choice. However, it seemed a rash tactic for a wizard used to skulking in the shadows. The attack in the Forbidden Forest had been particularly risky. With a little more luck, he would have been caught. Draco was just a child, but he was a particularly lethal child. Lucius had been teaching him to duel since the age of four.

"You okay, Professor? You've been staring off into space for almost ten minutes."

"Simply lost in thought. You must admit there has been much to consider over the last twenty-four hours."

"Yeah." Putting back a second pastry, she began to fiddle with her charm bracelet. "I still think it's pretty much my fault."

"Understandable, though untrue. You are not responsible for the actions of others. I hope you can accept that one day."

"Maybe." Quickly, she drained her glass of pumpkin juice. "I'd better get my books. I can catch the last half hour of Defense if I hurry. At least I'll get the assignment that way."

Leaving his plate and glass untouched, he stood when she did. "I'll accompany you to your classroom. From now on, I don't want you to go anywhere by yourself, do I make myself clear?"

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Professor, I can take care of myself. I'm not completely helpless, you know."

"Nor are you invincible. There is safety in numbers, Rose. How long do you think it would take someone to raise the alarm if you were attacked while walking alone to Defense class? A half hour? More? That's unacceptable. I beg you to obey me in this. This isn't about House points or detentions. This is your life we're talking about."

"Fine," she huffed, clearly not pleased.

He escorted her to Gryffindor Tower and then to class. The werewolf refused to meet his eyes as he gestured for Rose to take her seat, but it was all too apparent that he mourned Black's supposed demise. Lupin's yearlong betrayal fresh in his mind, however, Severus saw no reason to inform him that his fellow Marauder was alive and well and innocent of the charges that had sent him to Azkaban. He left without speaking.

Instead, he returned to the dungeons, relieving Madame Hooch fifteen minutes before the end of class. The students were busy writing the essay he had assigned them, and none dared ask the reason for his absence. Accepting their parchments as they filed out of class, he sat at his desk to read through them. It was a futile effort; within a half hour he had fallen into an exhausted stupor, staring uncomprehendingly at the words in front of him.

* * *

><p>"Severus?"<p>

Jerking his head upright, he stared blankly at Minerva McGonagall, a flush creeping up his neck as he realized that she had caught him dozing.

"Yes?"

"I thought you might wish to talk."

Her plaid jacket bore the telltale sign of breadcrumbs and there was a trace of mustard in the corner of her mouth. She must have eaten a sandwich before seeking him out. Surreptitiously, he checked his watch; it was later than he had expected. Lunch had not only been served, but it was almost over. He must have been staring at the same essay for much longer than he had thought.

"While I appreciate your concern, there is nothing to discuss. It has been a long day already, and I should prepare for my next class."

His answer did not sit well with her. The seasoned witch pursed her lips in irritation.

"A long day? I'll say it's been a long day, beginning last night when I was informed that one of my students had been attacked in the Forbidden Forest. But, you can't simply tell me that Rose and the Weasleys are in terrible danger without giving me a reason why. Or why you have given the order to kill every rat in the castle. So, while I appreciate your dedication to your lessons, you will speak to me now, Severus."

He rubbed his temples, desperately trying to think of a reply. Of all the staff, he trusted McGonagall implicitly, but she never had been one for breaking the rules. And, allowing Black his freedom on the grounds of Hogwarts was definitely breaking the rules. But, that didn't mean he couldn't give her a bit of the truth. If she chose to misinterpret it, well, that was her own fault.

"My apologies. It is difficult to escape the habits of the past. I should have come to you as soon as I suspected. After all, you are the expert on the process by which one becomes an Animagus."

"An Animagus? Severus, what . . . ?" Abruptly, she stiffened. "You believe Black is an Animagus, specifically a rat. That's how he's gained entry to the castle." Pausing a moment, she stated, "He's not on the registry."

"But, it is possible? For someone to become an Animagus on his own?"

Considering the likelihood, she scowled. "Of course it's possible. The magic is complicated, and the consequences for failing are dire, but if the wizard is desperate enough, it is definitely possible. How ever did you come to suspect he took the form of a rat?"

He feigned distaste. "I'd really rather not say. I had to rely upon sources of information best left unmentioned."

"I see," she replied knowingly, although he rather thought she didn't. "But, what does Black have to do with the Weasley's rat? Why do you believe them to be in danger?"

"A precaution, nothing more. Since their familiar takes the form of a rat, I thought Black might kill it in case it attempted to raise the alarm. Though, I'm beginning to doubt the likelihood. While some rodent familiars are quite clever, I have not seen that one demonstrate anything remotely resembling intelligence."

"Well, I could have told you that straightaway. I'm beginning to suspect it is nothing more than a garden variety rodent. It keeps appearing during third year Transfiguration and disrupting my class. Ronald Weasley spends the better half of twenty minutes trying to coax it into his pocket before the creature hides in the wall."

"Every day?"

"Four days in a row. In all honesty, Severus, I would not be disappointed if Mr. Filch accidently killed it."

His coworker confirmed his worst fears. Pettigrew was deliberately stalking Rose. There was a part of him that wished he could take her away from Hogwarts until the mess was sorted, but she couldn't hide forever. If it wasn't Pettigrew, it would be another Death Eater, or worse, the Dark Lord himself. She was definitely safer within the grounds than without.

"She must never be alone, never."

Snape's vehemence and abrupt change of subject distressed the no nonsense Gryffindor. Stiffly, she reached out to place her hand on his shoulder in an obvious gesture of comfort.

"You've done an admirable job keeping her safe, Severus. Nothing is going to happen to Rose."

"Thank you, Minerva."

Students began to trickle in for class, and the Transfiguration professor left quickly to return to her own classroom. Snape wished he could have another few hours of solitude. Events had eclipsed his reasoning, and he felt like he was missing something, something important, something that just might save Rose's life.

A book slammed on a table, and he looked up to find Mr. Weasley giving him a death glare. Irritable, he glared right back, although that only seemed to confirm something for the boy. He spent the rest of the class muttering nasty comments under his breath which the Potions Master chose not to acknowledge.

Severus, for his part, was preoccupied and not inclined to engage in a constructive dialogue that afternoon. He lectured without taking questions, and spent much of the practical portion of the lesson glowering at various students as they added the rat spleen a smidgen too early, or crumbled the pressed flower into the mixture rather than mashing it. By the time the lesson had ended, Neville Longbottom had been reduced to tears; Blaise Zabini had been given a stern lecture about the proper uses of flobberworms in potion making; and Dean Thomas had been sentenced to detention for intentionally flinging his draught onto Tracey Davis' hair. For the first time that year, the anxious wizard was ecstatic when the bell rang and class ended.

He spent dinner in his room, making a list of ingenious ways to capture or kill Pettigrew that didn't involve the interference of a large black mutt. He hated having to rely on Mr. Filch, and worked at a fever pitch to come up with a plan that would trap the traitor in his own game. After two hours of fruitless speculation, however, he was no closer to capturing Peter Pettigrew than he had been the night before.

Checking his watch, he saw that it was getting close to curfew. Reluctantly, he made his way to the Slytherin common room. It was past time to acknowledge his duties as Head of House.

* * *

><p>His black robes billowing behind him, Severus Snape walked into the Slytherin common room just as he always did, uninvited and unannounced. It was late enough that many of the younger students were in bed, but he ordered the prefects to fetch them. While waiting, he leaned up against the hearth, seemingly studying the fire. In truth, he used the mirror above the mantelpiece to survey his students.<p>

Terrance Higgs was cheating at cards, although Mr. Montague and Mr. Bletchly were woefully unaware of that fact. Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass sat on the floor near the dorms, giggling and taking turns combing each other's wet hair. Cyrus Bole idly tapped a red quill on his leg as he read over a particularly lengthy Charms essay, splattering cherry red ink on his robes and hands. And, Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson sat across from each other at the chess table, not playing chess. Instead, they scribbled furiously on a piece of parchment, their heads bent low enough that he couldn't catch a glimpse of what was on the paper.

The common room filled rapidly. As soon as the prefects informed him that everyone was out of their beds, he turned to face them. It was a testament to their discipline that the group grew silent as soon as he started his lecture.

"I'm sure you're all aware of the events which occurred last night in the Forbidden Forest and the withdrawal of your fellow Slytherin Helena Gamp from Hogwarts. Frankly, I am appalled by the behavior of a certain few, and if I ever discover their identities, they will be severely punished. Do I make myself clear?"

There was a half-hearted murmuring of assent. Not satisfied, he repeated his question in a slightly louder and more menacing tone. As one, the whole of Slytherin House gave a resounding, "Yes, Professor, Snape."

"Good. Nor will I tolerate any further bullying, especially of a first year. Frankly, Slytherins face enough of that from members of the other Houses."

He studied his students' faces, searching for any sign of contempt or ill-concealed superiority. Finding none, he quickly opened up the meeting for questions.

"Professor Snape? Is Madame Muffy still lost?"

He tensed, although Astoria Greengrass, a petite first year, didn't seem to have any ulterior motive for asking the question.

"Miss Gamp's familiar is still missing. However, the Gamps have offered a substantial reward for its return."

Adrian Pucey's hand shot into the air. "Is it true that a dog was killed outside the Gryffindor common room this morning?"

"Yes, that is unfortunately true."

Whispered mutterings broke out before Marcus Flint spoke without raising his hand. "We heard it was Potter's dog, sir. Is that true?"

"The dog in question did not belong to Miss Potter."

"Then, whose dog was it?"

"Mine."

The room became absolutely silent.

"Yours, sir?"

Severus eyes drilled into those of Marcus Flint. The brutish Slytherin should have graduated the year prior, but his parents had given a generous donation to the school so he could take an extra year to study for his N.E.W.T.S. Severus didn't know why they had bothered. If Ronald Weasley reminded him of a troll, then Marcus Flint resembled nothing more than a massive rock with the intelligence to match.

"Yes, mine, Mr. Flint. The dog was a stray living on the grounds that I had been feeding all year."

Flint didn't react to the news, but then, Flint didn't react to much of anything. A few of the girls grew teary eyed, and a more than a few of the boys awkwardly shuffled in place, not sure how to make use of the information. Annoyingly, Miss Parkinson and Miss Bulstrode continued to draw on their shared parchment. In the lull, another hand shot up.

"Does that mean Sirius Black was inside the castle again?"

"That is the consensus, yes, Mr. Harper."

"But, he's only after Potter, right?"

Snape counted to ten. Idiot children—no matter who was behind the attacks, it was sheer stupidity to assume that they were safe.

"A dangerous assumption, Mr. Nott. Sirius Black was imprisoned in Azkaban for over ten years. He is an extremely dangerous wizard who killed thirteen Muggles with a single curse. I doubt he cares how many he kills to reach his goal today. You would do well to remember that."

More than a few of the faces staring back at him looked scared, which had been his intent. The last thing he wanted was one of them to be injured like Draco had been the night before. Swiftly, he scanned his audience to locate Mr. Malfoy.

Draco stood in the shadows behind Pansy Parkinson, looking as glum as Snape had ever seen him. His eyes were focused not on his Head of House, but on the piece of parchment upon which the two girls were still drawing.

"Mr. Malfoy, perhaps you could enlighten the rest to the dangers Sirius Black poses to those who get in his way."

Draco stepped into the light. Jarringly, he sported a black eye that had not been present the previous night. The child was clad in dark green pajamas, but his feet were bare on the cold stone floor. His eyes were filled with a pent up rage. Before Severus could stop him, he pulled his top roughly over his head, revealing the two long, red scars on his chest that had yet to fade.

"This is what happens to people who stick their noses where they don't belong. Helena Gamp wasn't the only one to learn that lesson last night." Glaring at his Head of House, he taunted, "Good enough of a show for you, Professor?"

Severus stalked towards him, ripping the parchment out of Pansy Parkinson's hand as he did so. Draco arrogantly faced him, but the boy's mind was shut tight. Without taking his eyes off the hostile young man, he curtly dismissed the rest of Slytherin House, ordering them all to bed. It didn't take long for the two of them to be left alone in the common room.

"Did Lucius strike you?" Severus asked without preamble.

Draco snorted mirthlessly. "Father prefers not to personally soil his hands, Professor. I thought you'd have figured that out by now."

He refused to be baited by a child. "I'll take that as a no. Would you care to tell me who gave you such a conspicuous bruise?"

"You mean my eye? I walked into a wall."

"I know of several sixth and seventh years who fit such a description. I don't suppose you'd care to narrow it down?"

He crossed his arms defensively over his bare chest, refusing to answer. Letting out a long breath, Severus picked up the green pajama top with the tip of his cane.

"I can only assume there was a reason you felt it necessary to expose your scars for your classmates to see. I hope you made your point, whatever point that is. Now, get dressed before you catch cold."

Begrudgingly, he did. Stomping as loudly as his bare feet would allow, he attempted to retreat to his dormitory. Severus, however, grabbed him by his arm to detain him. When the usually arrogant child instinctively flinched, he released him immediately.

Snape didn't understand where his outward calm originated because he shook with suppressed rage. However, he was able to speak coolly to Draco, who regarded him with a mixture of anger and shame.

"Mr. Malfoy, I failed to adequately monitor the situation with Miss Gamp, but I will not make the same mistake twice. Tell me who did this to you and I will guarantee that they will be expelled from Hogwarts."

"That's rich coming from you. Mother told me all about what happened to you in school. How you were almost killed by a bunch of kids playing a prank and how no one was held accountable. I think she was trying to make me feel better, but all she did was prove that when it comes to Slytherins, nobody else gives a shit. It's a black eye. Just leave it alone."

He sucked in a lungful of air and managed to keep his temper. "Mr. Malfoy, it is more than a black eye and you know it. Something is horribly wrong in Slytherin House. Helena Gamp is the proof of that. Allow me to help you. You don't have to go through this alone."

Retreating to the entrance of the boys' dormitory, Draco sneered at his Head of House. "Everything you need to know is right under that beak you call a nose. Only, you're too thick to see it. So, stop asking me to be your little snitch because I'm not going to let anyone else get hurt because of me!"

With that, he raced to his dormitory.

Snape stood there, completely stunned. Eventually, he returned to his classroom. Without a thought, he dropped the parchment clutched in his hand onto his desk, turned out the light, and trudged to his rooms. The firewhiskey soothed the ache in his throat, but not the pounding of his head.

Lying down, he gave sleep a chance, but in the end it was impossible. His mind was simply too full of contradictory thoughts to reach the point of relaxation needed for actual rest. He tossed and turned for hours before giving up.

Around three in the morning, he returned to his classroom with a cup of coffee in hand. Sitting at his desk, he brought out a bright red quill and quickly began to slash at the mistakes he found in the essays which still hadn't been graded. He quickly went through the stack, writing scathing comments on each.

Focused on his task, he accidently picked up the doodling he had confiscated from Miss Parkinson and Miss Bulstrode. Staring at the stick figures on the page, he blinked in confusion. This wasn't an essay; it was a cartoon showing Miss Parkinson engaged in activities with Mr. Malfoy of which young teenagers should have no direct knowledge.

The artwork was atrocious, but everything was meticulously labeled and there was no mistaking that Pansy Parkinson had spent most of her evening planning her life as the future Mrs. Malfoy. Malfoy Manor was ringed on all sides by rose gardens, and stickman Draco stood at the entrance, his arm wrapped around stickwoman Pansy, a blob labeled 'little bundle of joy' held in her arms.

Perusing the other cartoon panels, he was fascinated by the girls' naïve view of marriage as much as disgusted by their crude depiction of Pansy's courtship, wedding night and a succession of drawings labeled merely as 'wifely duties'. He was sure that wherever the girls had gotten their information, it was much more sophisticated than _Witch Weekly_.

Fittingly, he made the parchment go up in flames. No wonder the two had been distracted during that night's meeting. Pansy Parkinson didn't simply have a crush on Draco, she was obsessed with him. Ruefully shaking his head, the Potions Master flicked the ashes into the bin. Briefly, he gave thanks that Rose showed no interest in such drama. Then, he finished grading the last of the essays.

With sleep still out of reach, he turned his attention back to more important matters, specifically, the capture and/or death of the rat-faced snitch better known as Peter Pettigrew.


	32. Desperate Times and Desperate Measures

Author's Notes - Apologies for the long wait between updates, and a humble apology for posting the same chapter twice last time. I was so determined to get the chapter out that I forgot to preview it after posting it. That won't happen again. Finally, here is the long-awaited confrontation between Pettigrew and Snape. It ends on somewhat of a cliffhanger, which I will be updating on Sunday, so you don't have that long to wait.

Now, for the bad news. I am going on a trip on Monday and won't have computer access for two weeks. I will do my best to post as soon as I get back, and thank you for your patience. Thanks to everyone who told me about the double post or took time to review, and thanks to everyone who is reading and putting the story on alerts and/or favorites. Hope you continue to enjoy it.

* * *

><p>"A rat? You expect us to believe that Black is a rat Animagus and has been wandering around the castle all year? Have you been sniffing some of your potions ingredients?"<p>

Irma Pince laughed nastily at her own joke while the other members of the Hogwarts staff shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"Really, Snape, you have to admit that yours is a fantastical tale."

Severus clenched his jaw, his dark eyes coldly sweeping the room. Far too many of his fellow professors shared the sour librarian's look of disbelief. Why couldn't they understand the danger? He'd laid it out, step by step, so that any fool could reach the logical conclusion. Granted, he'd taken a few liberties by not mentioning Pettigrew and changing Black's Animagus form to a rat, but that didn't make the danger any less real or the reasoning less sound.

"Fantastic or not, Madame Pince, it is the truth. Let me assure you that the wizard who betrayed the Potters is a rat Animagus and is at this very minute roaming the halls of Hogwarts."

Lupin started violently when he heard the news, but kept quiet as everyone considered the bold assertion. Severus was disappointed, but not surprised. Frankly, his disdain for the werewolf had rapidly superseded his hatred of Sirius Black. Yes, Black was egotistical, arrogant, and reckless. Furthermore, his stint in Azkaban had pushed him to the brink of obsession, but for all that, he had never been a coward.

Remus Lupin, on the other hand, had kept his knowledge of Black's abilities to himself, even when students' lives had been put in danger. He was a coward, pure and simple, and there was no one Severus Snape hated worse than a coward.

Filius unexpectedly spoke up, his squeaky voice uncommonly apologetic. "I hate to say it, Severus, but Irma is right. Your story does sound farfetched. You have neglected to explain why Rose Potter is still alive if Black has free reign inside the castle."

Silently, he counted to one hundred in ancient Druid. He shouldn't have said anything to anyone. He should have simply hunted Pettigrew down on his own and then hauled his corpse to the Wizengamot like some sick trophy.

Thankfully, Minerva answered before he could unleash a scathing diatribe at his colleague.

"Miss Potter has been attacked on several occasions this year, as everyone at this table is well aware. Severus' arguments make sense. How else could Black get past the dementors? I for one will sleep better at night when he is caught, and if it takes killing every rat inside Hogwarts, it is a small price to pay for our security."

Bathsheba Babbling slapped a notebook full of symbols onto the table. "I know how much you care for your students, Minerva, but aren't you overreacting just a smidgen? Where is the proof? Headmaster, what do you think?"

The room stilled as everyone looked to Dumbledore for the final say. Absently drumming his fingers on the table, it took him a few seconds to acknowledge the question. Slowly, he looked up at the stressed faculty sitting around the table. Peering over his half-moon glasses, he smiled benevolently.

"I have found in my many years at Hogwarts that it is unwise to dismiss anything on the basis that it is too farfetched. The wizarding world is full of the fantastical, and I must say that Sirius Black being an unregistered Animagus is far more reasonable than a basilisk residing in a hidden chamber underneath the castle or the possession of a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor by Lord Voldemort. While there is no concrete proof, I see no reason to dismiss the hypothesis outright. Besides, rats, ordinary or otherwise, have no place at Hogwarts. I expect the rest of the staff to aid Mr. Filch in the eradication of all rodents within the castle walls. Any dead rat will be given to Severus to determine if, indeed, it was Sirius Black."

The weekly staff meeting broke up soon afterwards. No one was completely satisfied by Professor Dumbledore's pronouncement. The skeptics thought it was a huge waste of time while the Potions Master silently seethed at Albus' lackluster support. Not once in his lengthy speech had the Headmaster stated that he personally believed the argument.

Gripping his cane, Severus waited for the rest to file out before confronting his mentor.

"How could you, Albus?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "I don't know what you mean, my boy."

"You made me to look like a fool," he spat out, his frustration boiling over. "Not once did you say that you believed me. At the most, you appeared to be humoring me. You made me look weak in front of my peers."

That was not my intent," he mildly replied. Pressing his fingers together, he eyed the younger wizard fixedly. "I merely wished you to see that it is not as easy as it looks."

"As easy as what looks?" he snapped, more than ready for the mind games to end.

"Leading, Severus. It is not as easy to lead a group as it looks. You cannot tell them how to think or what to believe, no matter how strong your convictions. You must win them over, or, failing that, you must give them another reason to do your will. Rats are vermin; they have no place at Hogwarts. Irma Pince can accept that, even if she does not accept the assertion that Black has been disguising himself as a rat to gain entrance to the castle. So, you gain her assistance and the assistance of other skeptics though they do not believe your story."

"I have never sought to lead."

"No?" Leaning forward, Dumbledore's tone grew cold. "Then, explain to me why you took it upon yourself to destroy the Blood Wards I had so carefully constructed around Privet Drive. Tell my why you took it upon yourself to take away the one protection Rose Potter had against Voldemort and his followers. Stealing the child from the Dursleys was not the act of a follower or even a spy, Severus. It was the act of a leader."

He sank heavily into a nearby chair. He had been an idiot to think he could have fooled the great and mighty Albus Dumbledore. Of course the man knew who had been responsible for the fallen wards on Privet Drive.

"I did what was necessary for her safety, Albus, nothing more."

"Voldemort is not dead, Severus. You and I both know this. According to the latest intelligence, he is hiding in the wilds of Albania, still recovering from the confrontation with Miss Potter over the Philosopher's Stone. How does destroying her one true refuge keep her safe?"

"That house was no refuge," he answered bitterly, thinking of the atrocities she had suffered throughout her short life. "You safeguarded her from one monster only to expose her to another."

"Her attacker is dead by his own hand. She would have been perfectly safe."

"She would never be safe living in a house with the likes of Vernon Dursley. That pathetic excuse for a human being terrorized her from the moment she failed to conform to his definition of normal. Do you wish to know how many times he broke her bones beating her with the metal of his belt, Headmaster? It's no wonder she's so good at Defense; she's had to practice it all her life!"

"So you took it upon yourself to rectify the situation without consulting me. In many ways I admire that, my boy. In my own youth, I was much too self-absorbed to acknowledge the suffering of others. However, I fear that you have done her a great disservice. Unfortunately, your actions cannot be undone. As much as you might deny it, your loyalty no longer rests with the greater good; it rests solely with her. And, that may very well prove deadly, for both of you."

Resolutely, he stood, barely remembering to lean against his cane. He'd had enough lectures about the greater good to last a lifetime.

"My loyalty has always been to Lily, Albus, as you well know. For twelve years I was willing to blindly transfer that loyalty to you, but not anymore. I owe you my life, and for that I will be forever grateful, but I will not allow you to dictate what is best for Rose, not anymore, not after I have seen how you have manipulated her and callously allowed her to be abused. I admire your dedication to the greater good, but I will not let it come before Rose Potter's welfare. She is a child, not a sacrificial lamb. And, if you ever use her to lure Voldemort out of hiding like you used her to lure Sirius Black, then you will have to answer to me, and I don't think you will like the results, old man."

Surprisingly, there was no ire in Dumbledore's reply. In fact, his expression was infinitely sad. "With age comes wisdom, my boy. For whatever reason, you have chosen to take Miss Potter's welfare out of my hands and into your own. I hope she never comes to regret your decision. Let me assure you, Severus; at some point, you will."

He felt a cold chill down his spine, and he briefly wondered what Albus knew that he didn't.

"In that, I hope you are mistaken. Thank you, Headmaster, for supporting my requests. I will inform you the moment the Animagus is captured or killed."

He swept out of the staff room with as much dignity as he could muster. Striding to the security of the dungeons, he managed to hold himself together until he was inside his private quarters. Only then did he allow himself to react.

Pouring himself a glass of firewhiskey, he gulped it down. It didn't help numb the pain of his encounter with the Headmaster. So, he had known all along. Of course he had. If it involved the Girl-Who-Lived, Albus made it his business to know. But, what had he meant at the end? How could he be so sure he would regret taking responsibility for the girl's welfare?

After another few sips of the potent spirit, he deliberately put it out of his mind. Pettigrew was the immediate threat. There was no use worrying about a vague foretelling of doom, especially when Rose was in danger at that moment. Putting his glass into the sink, he changed into some old jeans and a black t-shirt. Mr. Filch would no doubt appreciate his offer to help set traps in the hallways. It was either that or drink himself into oblivion, and he didn't have time for that.

* * *

><p>The rat wouldn't die. And, it was driving the Potions Master mad. Four weeks of poisoned bait, traps, cats and stunners, and the damn Animagus still had run of the castle. Winter had turned to a wet, cold spring, and Pettigrew grew bolder with each day. He had even dared scamper past the door to the Potions lab while the N.E.W.T. level students had been attempting to brew Everlasting Elixirs.<p>

The explosive nature of such a potion precluded Severus from racing out the door to give chase, which had thrown him into a foul mood. Most of his students couldn't tell the difference. Ever since he had discovered Pettigrew's treachery, his short temper had reappeared, as had his stutter. Instead of engaging his classes in thought-provoking discussions, he now forced his students to read aloud from the textbook. Questions were no longer welcome, and Neville Longbottom wasn't the only one to end a lesson in tears.

Snape was quickly becoming a pariah; he didn't care. Most of the staff no longer believed his tale that Black was an Animagus. Why should they? Black hadn't been seen inside Hogwarts since he had entered the Gryffindor boys' dormitory all those weeks ago.

Charity Burbage had taken to calling him Captain Ahab in the hallways. To rub salt into his wound, Weasley's "pet" had quickly become something of a celebrity as he continued to taunt Severus by scampering publically about the castle. Rolanda Hooch had started a betting pool to guess when it would be captured and by whom. He'd heard from Minerva that even Albus had placed some money on the outcome.

His mood beyond foul, he stalked into the Forbidden Forest, a container of beef stew hidden in a charmed pocket in his robes. Black appeared as a dog, but transformed as soon as he determined Severus was truly alone. Greedily, he grabbed the proffered bowl and began to devour the hearty meal with his fingers. Only belatedly did he notice that Severus held out a spoon. Self-consciously, he wiped his fingers on his trousers and took the utensil.

Severus watched him eat with a veneer of disgust on his face. In the beginning, he had insisted Black eat as a mutt, but his satisfaction had quickly waned when he noticed how malnourished the half-starved fugitive had become during the long winter months. The desperate man's eyes were ringed by black shadows; his arms were skeletal in appearance and his breaths came in ragged wheezes. Even so, Sirius Black could infuriate him with a single word.

"Thanks, Sever—I mean Snape. The stew's much better than that slop they fed me in Azkaban."

He didn't say you're welcome; he never did. Instead, he held out his hand for the empty bowl and dirty spoon. Once he had put those items away, he scowled at his temporary ally, just as always.

"I take it the rat is still getting the better of you."

"Pettigrew is making my life a living hell, something you are intimately familiar with, Black."

To his credit, the wizard didn't deny it. Instead, he pursued his favorite scheme. "So, when are you going to let me back into the castle? I can track Pettigrew far better than you."

In the beginning, Severus had been unequivocally opposed to such a plan. It was reckless and foolhardy, and risked a confrontation between Black and some well-meaning teacher or stupidly brave student. As days had turned into weeks and Pettigrew still hadn't been captured, though, he was sorely tempted. If nothing else, it would solve the problem of being responsible for his childhood nemesis.

Black was bound to be discovered and either captured or killed. The Marauder didn't appear to be overly concerned about either prospect. He focused solely on taking revenge against the spineless Gryffindor he had unfortunately trusted with the Potters' lives. And, for once, Snape was in complete agreement with the wizard who had tormented him so long ago.

"Easter holidays are in three weeks. Most of the younger students will go home. If Pettigrew's not dead by then, I'll bring you inside."

"I'll need a wand."

Sighing, Severus handed him the wand he had procured in anticipation of the request. Stolen from a Hufflepuff first year who had dropped it in the hallway, it was made of oak with the sinew of a thestral at its core.

For a few moments, Black held it reverently in his hand, scarcely daring to believe the wand was real. Then, he threw back his head and laughed; even to Snape's tired ears, the sound was one of unadulterated joy. Finally, he cast _Avis_, conjuring a flock of small, trilling birds that quickly flew off into the distance.

"Of all the spells you could have cast, you chose _Avis_?"

The skeletal wizard bowed theatrically, not at all embarrassed by his spell choice. "Birds don't fly anywhere near Azkaban. I guess the Dementors scare them off since I haven't heard many in the forest this year. It's funny what you miss when you're locked up."

"Quite."

The fugitive's admission stirred memories in Severus' mind he'd just as soon forget. His three weeks in Azkaban had been the longest three weeks of his life. He had spent most of his time reliving his betrayal of Lily, but there were instances when he had yearned to see a sunset or taste vegetables that hadn't been boiled beyond recognition or smell the crisp scent of a newly printed book. He knew exactly what Black meant, and he hated sharing that connection with the Marauder.

"I'll return tomorrow. Do not betray my trust in the meantime by doing something profoundly foolhardy with that wand."

Sirius grinned. "Don't worry, Snape. I'm a good dog. I won't bite the hand that feeds me."

Grimacing, he left without a word.

* * *

><p>The Monday before Easter, Severus stalked into the Forbidden Forest, a potion vial clutched in his free hand. His limp, black hair had whipped around his face, tangling in the stiff breeze. A stranger might have taken him for a madman. Perhaps he was. He didn't think a sane man would ever contemplate what he was about to do.<p>

Black stepped out from behind a tree close to Hagrid's hut, his eyes wild with anticipation. "You have it?"

"Obviously."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense; who is it?"

"Rose."

Sirius stared at the vial as if it were poison. "Rose? Why did you pick Rose? What if she sees us?"

"Do you honestly think I'd let her anywhere near this hare-brained scheme of yours? I asked Madame Hooch to take her and Ronald Weasley to the Quidditch Pitch and let her fly her broom. They'll be gone for the afternoon."

"So she likes the Firebolt."

"No, Black, she abhors the Firebolt for being too flashy. What do you think? You've made her the envy of everyone in the school."

His blistering sarcasm wasn't lost on the other wizard who quickly changed the subject. "Rolanda Hooch is teaching here? She still playing hard to get?"

Snape raised his eyes heavenward as if pleading for divine guidance. "Septima Vector doesn't seem to think so. Now, will you just drink the bloody potion!"

Chuckling, Black tipped back the Polyjuice Potion and drank it in one long gulp. He belched loudly as it took effect. Snape briefly looked away. When he turned his attention back to his co-conspirator, he had to fight to keep breakfast in his stomach. There stood Rose, but the smirk she wore belonged completely to Black. It was as if his worst nightmares had come to life.

"Well, don't gape, Snape. We've got an hour before I change back. Let's make the most of it."

Grinding his teeth, he marched silently towards the castle, keeping a few steps ahead of Black. They passed a handful of students, but most of the younger children had gone home for the holidays, and the N.E.W.T. level students were cramming for their upcoming exams. Relieved not to have met any of Rose's friends on the grounds, the wizards headed straight to Gryffindor tower.

"Silver sickles," Snape declared flatly. The Fat Lady's portrait immediately swung open to allow him entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Black disguised as Rose followed quickly behind, his wand tucked up in his sleeve.

They were thankfully alone. Slowly turning in a circle, Black took in the room. "Hasn't changed a bit."

Snape glared and not-Rose rolled his eyes in response, but he did grow quiet. Stealthily, they climbed the stairs to the boys' dormitory. Thanks to an inadvertent comment by Dean Thomas, Snape knew that Pettigrew had been returning to his supposed owner at night in order to eat and rest without fear of capture.

Since all of the third year boys save Ronald Weasley had gone home for the holidays, the two wizards surmised that Pettigrew would continue to use the room as a safe haven. While it wasn't a guarantee that he would be there, it was their best shot at catching him unawares.

Black as Rose walked in the room seemingly alone. Sliding Weasley's trunk out from under his bed, the transformed wizard began to go through it, as if looking for something. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a twitching, scrawny rat emerge from underneath the bed.

"Now where did Ron put that chocolate?"

Black began to rummage through the trunk with more vigor. Pettigrew inched forward, eagerly sniffing the air. Hidden by Rose's invisibility cloak, Snape watched from the doorway, his entire body tensed to strike as his wand thrummed against his palm.

The rat took one step forward. Black pretended not to notice. With a grin of triumph, he held up a small bag of chocolate coins. The rat scurried forward, peering around the edge of the large trunk.

A bolt of red shot out from the doorway, and Pettigrew fell over. Quick as lightning, Sirius scooped him up with both hands. His expression was one of malicious glee, which looked horribly inappropriate on the image of the young witch.

Ripping off the invisibility cloak, Snape made a grab for the stunned Animagus, but Black darted out of the way to put Ron's bed between them.

"He's my kill, Snape, not yours. I earned this."

"You'll earn yourself a one-way ticket back to Azkaban if you kill him before he can exonerate you, Black. Dead, he's nothing but a mystery. The Wizengamot will assume that you two were working together. Alive with a few drops of Veritaserum in him, and the entire world will know who really betrayed the Potters. Now give him to me."

Something inside Sirius snapped. With Rose's voice he screamed in agony.

"Do you think I care, Snape? He's nothing more than a traitor! He's the reason they're dead! I have no one, no one! He took away my family! He took away my life! I want him dead!"

Breathing raggedly, Black tightened his fingers around Pettigrew. Having managed to recover from the stunner, the Animagus struggled feebly as the pressure against his small bones increased.

Severus was torn. He wanted Pettigrew dead, no doubt about it. And, he hated Sirius Black. Watching the two destroy each other should have given him immense satisfaction, but the prospect left a sour taste in his mouth. No matter how much he had fantasized about it, his childhood tormentor didn't deserve to be Kissed for seeing justice done.

Terribly conflicted, he didn't sense the Weasley twins behind him until it was too late.

Fred approached the seemingly unhinged girl from the left, while George carefully circled around on the right. Each nodded respectfully to Severus as they passed.

"Uh, Rose? You want to tell us why you're trying to kill Scabbers?"

George's calm voice was in perfect harmony to Fred's as he matched his twin step for step.

"Not that we mind on principle. Scabber's never been much of a pet. In fact, he's always been somewhat of a disappointment, but—"

In rapid succession, Severus fired thin, snaking cords at both boys. Unable to move, they regarded the Potions Master with growing indignation.

"Just what do you—"

"Think you're doing—"

"Professor? We were only trying to—"

"Help Rose."

Black laughed hysterically, although he kept his tight grip on Pettigrew. "Merlin, Snape! It's like seeing Fabian and Gideon reborn."

"Shut the hell up." Severus precisely enunciated each word, his nerves finally at a breaking point. "Kill the rat and get out of here before I decide to kill you, too. No amount of logic is going to explain this away. I'll be lucky to keep my job."

Black opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was an enraged shout of pain. Pettigrew had latched onto his finger with his sharp teeth. Instinctively, Black violently flicked him away, hurling the rat into the air. Pettigrew landed safely on Seamus Finnegan's bed and then launched himself at the floor before either wizard could react. He was down the stairs before anyone could blink.

"Fuck!"

The twins' eyes widened when they heard such a word come out of Rose Potter's mouth. Black took off down the stairs, letting out a string of expletives. Stunned, Fred and George turned in unison towards Snape.

"If you tell us, we may be able to help."

Truly desperate, he did precisely that.

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later, when Black masquerading as Rose dragged himself back up the stairs and into the boys' dormitory, he was greeted by a very familiar sight. Severus and the Weasley twins were pouring over a ragged piece of parchment.<p>

"The Marauders' Map! I can't believe it still exists. Filch confiscated it years ago."

"Nicked it from Filch's office," George proudly announced as he peered curiously at the still polyjuiced Black. "We've been using it to sneak into Hogsmeade for ages."

Snape practically growled, and the Animagus took a prudent step backwards, which made the brothers laugh.

"Don't pay him any mind. Professor Snape tried opening the map without the proper incantation and was thoroughly insulted for his trouble."

A flush of red tinged the transformed wizard's cheeks. "I'd forgotten about that. James' idea, of course. You should have seen the insults it spat out when Avery got a hold of it, Snape. I thought flames were going to come out of his ears!"

"If you would cease indulging in nostalgia for just one moment, perhaps you can assist us in finding Pettigrew on the map. Or would you prefer that he get away?"

"Here, give me that."

Black took out the stolen wand and tapped it gently on the map. The twins watched in amazement as all the names disappeared save one. By the zigs and zags appearing on the parchment, Peter Pettigrew was currently scurrying around the empty Great Hall.

"Got him!"

He raced out of the dormitory, Snape, Fred and George on his heels. The Great Hall was filled with gloomy shadows, the ceiling reflecting the black and purple clouds that had amassed outside the castle. Casting _Lumos_, Sirius consulted the map, and then sent a stunner flying in Pettigrew's direction. It missed by inches.

"Shit! It's too damn dark!"

With a snap of his fingers, Snape illuminated the dining area with its usual candlelight. Exposed, the rat dove under a chair as all four wizards shot spells towards him. All four missed. Black hurled several Reductor Curses at the retreating figure, none of which hit Pettigrew. The Potions Master scowled at the damage that particular spell inflicted upon the tables and chairs even as he continued to throw curse after curse at the escaping wizard.

Suddenly, their prey disappeared. Breathing heavily, Black again studied the map. The Potter's betrayer had slipped out through a crack in the wall and was just making his way—

"HE"S GOING FOR THE DOORS!"

It was a race to the entrance, one which they lost. The rat dove outside where he was almost impossible to spot. Black, however, still gripped the map. With an enraged curse, he took off after Pettigrew.

Pettigrew in his rodent state was fast and well camouflaged. Having to run with one eye on the map, Black couldn't quite catch up. Snape and the twins were forced to blindly follow Sirius, their sharp eyes darting in every direction as they searched in vain for the wizard who had hidden as a pet for twelve years.

What happened next would forever haunt Snape's nightmares. His eyes had followed the ground so closely that he didn't notice where Pettigrew had led them until it was too late. Belatedly looking up, he saw Rose, Ronald Weasley and Rolanda Hooch in the distance. Gripping their brooms against the now howling wind, they laughed amongst themselves as they walked towards the castle.

Rose was the first of the three to spot them. When she saw herself, she screamed a warning and took off running towards them, her wand out. She was twenty yards away when Pettigrew transformed, appearing as if out of thin air to grab her by the waist.

The two groups converged upon them like hunters stalking a wounded lion. Pettigrew, however, was too canny to be encircled. He dragged Rose along with him until he stood almost twenty feet away from a rough semicircle of anxious witches and wizards.

Madame Hooch, Hermione and Ron stared at the two Roses, perplexed by the unfolding drama until the flying instructor let out a yelp of surprise.

"I know you! You're Peter Pettigrew! Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

As if on cue, the effects of the Polyjuice Potion wore off. In a matter of seconds, a bedraggled Sirius Black stood next to the Weasley twins. For an instant, every pair of eyes except Snape's focused on him. Even Pettigrew was taken aback, and Rose used his shock as an opportunity for escape.

She struggled fiercely as Severus held his breath. He could do nothing with her so close to the rat-faced traitor. Sadly, her attempt ended almost as quickly as it had begun. While Pettigrew was short, he was strong enough to subdue her without effort, painfully pinning her arms behind her back with his left hand. Pressing his wand against her neck until she winced, he leaned in to whisper quietly in her ear.

Even from a distance, Severus could see profound effect of the traitor's words. Rose went completely still, her face drained of color and her eyes wide with fear. He had never felt so helpless in all of his life. Throwing his wand onto the ground, he began to slowly limp towards the desperate wizard.

"Let her go, Pettigrew! This doesn't involve Rose! This is between you and Black! Take me if you must have a hostage!"

Thunder boomed in the distance, only adding to the charged atmosphere. The pasty man began to shake, his squeaky voice trembling with emotion.

"This has everything to do with Rose, Snivellus! Ask him if you don't believe me! Ask him why the Potters went into hiding! It was all because of her!"

Looking directly at Sirius, he frantically attempted to justify his actions. "I didn't want to do it, Padfoot! He threatened to kill me if I didn't spy on the Order! It was little things, mostly, telling him when and where a raid would take place, giving him the names of some of the members. But, after the prophecy all that changed. He was obsessed! And, then, you had to go and be clever, had to suggest me as their Secret Keeper because no one would suspect little timid Peter Pettigrew as the only person standing between the Dark Lord and his downfall. It's your fault! Yours, do you hear me? You're the one who talked James into accepting me over you and Remus! I didn't have a choice!"

"You coward! Of course you had a choice! You could have died, Wormtail! Died like Marlene and Edgar Bones and the Prewett twins and everyone else who had the guts to stand up to Voldemort!"

While Pettigrew had been ranting to Sirius, the others had not been idle. Fred and George had eased themselves away from the group after warning Ron to stay out of trouble. Fred ran towards the castle, and George began to cautiously circle around, hoping to catch Pettigrew from behind. Severus inched forward, ending up only a few feet away from Rose. Rolanda Hooch carefully retrieved the broom she had dropped while running after the student she had promised to protect.

As soon as Black had finished screaming at his onetime friend, a bolt of lightning shot from the sky. Hitting just a few yards away, it temporarily blinded friend and foe alike with its searing brightness, and in its thunderous afterimage, everything happened at once.

Unarmed, Severus lunged towards Rose to pull her away from danger, but he knew in his heart that he was far too late. She was screaming inhuman cries of agony that came from only one curse. Grasping her arm, he was engulfed in the same white-hot pain as more spells and curses flew past them. At that point, he didn't know Pettigrew's location, nor did he care. The pain abruptly disappeared, but Rose's cries did not stop.

He needed to protect her, to take her someplace safe, someplace where he could tend to whatever injuries the rat had inflicted upon her. Somehow, he managed to pick her up off the ground. Ignoring the fight around him, he put his sight on the castle, taking three steps towards safety before something hit the earth a few feet behind him. Jumbled, he could feel himself flying, no falling, through the air without the benefit of spell or broom. He shouted for Rose, and then everything went black.


	33. One Step at a Time

Author's Notes - I'll make this short, since I'm not finished packing. I didn't want to end on a cliffhanger since I won't be able to post until I return from my trip. Yes, it poses as many questions as it answers, but the story isn't finished yet (although it made a huge leap forward in the last chapter). Hope you enjoy, and thanks to LMRyder, FleurSuoh, EllaPotter1988, Ebony Dagger, wolvfbfn, and slk1229 for taking the time to review. I'm off to Spain without a computer, but I am bringing a notebook, so don't despair!

* * *

><p>Cracking open his eyes, Severus saw a blur of deep purple standing over him. After a moment, the edges of the blur sharpened until he could make out the Headmaster's paisley purple robes. A wrinkled hand held out a glass of water, and he grabbed it eagerly. Savoring the feel of the cool water on his parched tongue, Snape blinked rapidly, finally clearing his vision.<p>

"Where am I?"

Dumbledore beamed over his half-moon spectacles. "There you are, my boy. I had begun to think we were going to need a new Potions Master. You haven't been a patient in the Hospital Wing this often since you were a student."

He was in the Hospital Wing; considering the thin mattress and white sheets, the answer made perfect sense. Staring at the ceiling, he tried to make sense of his chaotic memories. While he couldn't recall everything with clarity, he knew Rose had been in danger. Craning his neck around, he noted that the other beds were empty.

"Where is Rose?"

The Headmaster affectionately patted his arm. "All in good time, Severus. Everyone has been worried about you. Let Poppy examine you and then I'll answer all your questions."

Dumbledore's response had the horrible ring of déjà vu. Sitting up, Severus swung his legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand. Apart from a moment of vertigo, he felt no better and no worse than he had since the night of Rose's attack. Yet, he knew something was horribly wrong.

"I'll ask you again. Where is Rose?"

The Headmaster answered readily enough, although he refused to look his Potions Master in the eye. "She's with Minerva, Severus. Poppy thought it best. You will see her soon; I promise."

Madame Pomfrey walked up to the pair, glowering angrily at her lone patient. With a strength that belied her size, she pushed him back onto the bed.

"Severus Snape, I will not have you overtaxing yourself after suffering another head injury! You should be at St. Mungo's, but with the Ministry inquiry, I suppose they thought it best to leave you here for questioning."

The air rushed out of his lungs. "They're charging me for harboring Black?"

Briskly, she examined the side of his head. He grimaced from the unexpected pain, but otherwise, felt no ill effects.

"Goodness, no, Severus. The Ministry is investigating how Peter Pettigrew faked his death and then managed to conceal himself for so many years. The Weasleys are horribly upset that he took such advantage of them. Molly took her children home to make absolutely sure that he hadn't harmed them in any way. Arthur is livid. I've never seen him so angry. And, poor Sirius. I only released him from the Hospital Wing this morning. He's half-starved, not that it's your fault. He told all of us how kind you were to him. It's Azkaban. That prison is nothing more than a legalized death camp. I had to give him dreamless sleep twice, and—"

The bad feeling wouldn't go away. "Twice? How long have I been unconscious?"

Used to tending to students, she clucked sympathetically as she gave him the news. "Four days. You gave us all quite a scare. Molly sat by your bedside until Arthur convinced her to go home and rest, and Sirius paced the floor day and night. Even Rolanda came by to see how you were doing."

Standing abruptly, he grabbed his wand off the bedside table. Poppy had not mentioned Rose at all. Ignoring the school matron's objections, he staggered towards the doors. After a few painful strides, Albus stepped in front of him, temporarily halting his progress. Severus scowled, ready to fight his way to Rose, but the Headmaster merely handed him his cane.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt is handling the inquiry. While he is more understanding than most, he has a job to do, and he will do it. When you see him, I suggest you remember that."

Nodding curtly, he took his cane. He knew Shacklebolt by reputation. He was not a man to cross. However, the inquiry was the last thing on his mind. He had to get to Rose. Halfway to McGonagall's office his memory of that night assaulted him. He anxiously quickened his pace.

Aggressively, he threw the door open to the Deputy Headmistress' office. Minerva instinctively blocked him from entering, her wand pointed straight at his heart. As soon as she recognized him, however, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Severus! Thank Merlin! Poppy was beginning to think you'd never wake."

He walked past the relieved witch, barely acknowledging her presence. Rose sat forlornly on the chair behind Minerva's desk, her arms wrapped around her chest.

"Rose?"

She didn't look up, didn't so much as blink, and the churning pit in his stomach became a giant, raging maw. He looked anxiously to McGonagall for an explanation.

"She hasn't spoken since Pettigrew used the Cruciatus Curse on her, Severus. We were hoping she'd snap out of it, but it's been four days. She doesn't eat; she doesn't sleep. The only reason she's not in St. Mungo's is that she'll drink the potions Poppy hands her. Other than that, she just sits and stares into the distance."

"Minerva, would you find Kingsley Shacklebolt and explain the situation to him? Tell him that I will meet with him at his convenience tomorrow."

An uncharacteristic look of pity flashed across the stern witch's face. "Of course, Severus." With a little sniff that sounded suspiciously like a sob, Minerva closed the door behind her as she left. Alone with Rose, the weary Potions Master was at a momentary loss.

In the end, he treated her as he had wished to be treated as a child. Scooping her up, he sat in the chair with her on his lap, patting and rocking her while whispering that she was safe over and over again.

She didn't speak, but after an hour or so, he felt her body relax. He stopped rocking, though he didn't stop patting her back until he was sure she was deeply asleep. However, with nothing to do, all of his aches and pains suddenly clamored for his attention.

His head throbbed to the beat of his heart. His left leg cramped painfully. Both of his hands ached deep in the bone; he must have attempted to brace himself as he landed, though he could remember nothing. And, his stomach growled in protest over the lack of food.

Gritting his teeth, he did his best to ignore his discomfort. Rose needed real sleep, and he wasn't about to jeopardize that by attempting to move her. To occupy his mind, he counted the books on Minerva's cramped bookshelves; he studied the front of the postcard that had always intrigued him; and he rated the hideousness of the cat knickknacks on her shelves. Surprisingly, most were quite tasteful.

Just as he thought he might go out of his mind, the door opened, revealing a very familiar face. For the first time, he didn't feel a surge of anger as Black walked into view. In spite of himself, he was curious to know what had happened in his absence.

Black hesitantly held out the Marauder's Map before placing it on the desk.

"I, uh, saw that you were with Rose and thought you might like to have the map, to keep. The Weasley boys know all the secret entrances. I, that is, we, thought it might be more useful in your hands."

"Have a seat, Black."

Sirius dropped into the wooden chair in front of the desk. His wheeze had disappeared, as had the dark circles under his eyes. Someone had bought him clothes that fit—clothes much more expensive than a Hogwarts teacher could have ever afforded. He still looked to be in need of a good meal, but Severus recognized with a start that he had looked much the same after his stint in St. Mungo's. It was just another similarity that was far too close for comfort.

"I'm glad to see you awake, Snape."

Their relationship wasn't one of polite chitchat. Severus pointedly ignored the overture.

"Tell me what occurred—all of it."

For once, the habitually smug wizard appeared ill at ease.

"It was the lightning that triggered it. Wormtail always has been afraid of storms. When, it struck, he reacted like someone had attacked him. He . . . ." Sirius gazed sadly at Rose for several seconds before continuing in a gruff voice. "That's when he cast the Unforgivable. Spells flew everywhere. You were able to pull her away, although I think he cast _Crucio_ on you, too. George had been experimenting on dung bombs for a prank. He and Fred were trying to get the dung to stick better to the walls. He had one in his pocket and threw it at Pettigrew hoping it would distract him. It missed, but proved to be far more explosive than expected."

Anticipating an explosive reaction to the news, Sirius rapidly defended his fellow Gryffindor. "You shouldn't blame him. He had no idea how destructive that prototype would be. They hadn't tested it yet. It injured Pettigrew as well. He was bleeding badly when he transformed, but you and Rose had to be the priority. Bastard wasn't bleeding enough to kill him, though."

He didn't blame George Weasley for his headache any more than he blamed Rose for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He saw no reason to enlighten Black, however. He would explain to Mr. Weasley when he saw him that such incidents were all too common during wartime.

He had no doubt that the confrontation with Pettigrew had been the opening salvo in a much dreaded war. Peter Pettigrew was a weak, spineless coward. And weak, spineless cowards always sought out those stronger than themselves in order to survive. Barring some miracle, Voldemort would gain a willing lackey, which was more than he had possessed since his defeat at Godric's Hollow. It was only a matter of time before he regained enough power to return as a significant threat.

The thought made his aching head throb with agony. What had he done? He had stripped Rose of the protection of the Blood Wards when she would need them the most. It was obvious he couldn't adequately protect her.

"Severus?"

He blinked; Black's voice pulled him sharply from his introspection. From the nauseating expression of concern on the gaunt wizard's face, he guessed he had missed some of the conversation.

"Don't call me that," he grumbled, but there was no real force behind the words.

Black smiled in obvious relief and the tired wizard suppressed a groan.

"I'd better go. Remus wants to buy me a drink before I leave for London. The Wizengamot's holding a special session on Tuesday to decide my case. Dumbledore assures me it's a foregone conclusion, but I want to get into my vault before someone decides there's been a mistake and I need to be locked up again. Thank Merlin the goblins don't take holidays."

Black was babbling, though Snape didn't have the foggiest idea why. Finally, he turned to leave, but not before doing the one thing the ragged wizard had dreaded since sparing his life.

"I know you don't want to hear it, and I know it won't mean much coming from me, but thank you, Snape. I owe you, not just for saving me, but for saving Rose.

His head hurt too much to shout or feel any real emotion. The words washed over him and didn't bring the anticipated rage or defensiveness. All he felt was relief that the well-being of his childhood nemesis would no longer be his problem or responsibility.

Sirius was on the threshold of Minerva's office when Severus looked down at Rose. He cared for her with every fiber of his being, but there was one thing he could not give her. Unfortunately, the Marauder could. In the depths of his heart, he knew what he needed to do.

"Black, wait."

He turned slowly around, clearly bemused.

"Rose would appreciate hearing stories of her childhood that don't involve the Dursleys. Perhaps, once you have dealt with your legal issues, you might consent to recount some."

His elation was almost unbearable, but, Black consciously made an attempt to mask it. Quickly, however, that elation turned to anguish.

"They're talking about sending her to the fourth floor of St. Mungo's if she doesn't speak soon."

"I don't put stock in idle gossip. I suggest you don't, either."

Sirius regarded the pair thoughtfully before breaking out in a weary smile. "I won't. Take care, Snape. You're doing one hell of a job taking care of her. Lily would be proud."

Before Severus could react, he was gone.

* * *

><p>Slowly waking, the Potions Master was certain he was being watched. Scarcely daring to hope, he opened his eyes. There sat Rose, still huddled on his lap, but this time she focused on the world around her, specifically him.<p>

"How are you feeling, Rose?"

"You wouldn't wake up," she accused in a hoarse whisper. "There was blood and sticks and it hurt so much and you wouldn't wake up and it's all my fault."

"None of it is your fault," he quietly corrected. "And, I am awake now. I won't leave you, Rose. I promise."

"It hurt; it hurt; it hurt so much and it wouldn't stop. They wouldn't stop. The sticks kept poking and poking and I was screaming, and you weren't there; nobody was there; no one's ever there because I killed them all, killed them by being born, and they'll just keep dying until there's no one left because there's never anyone there. I'm all alone, alone with the pain and it hurts; it hurts and there was blood and sticks and no one came and then you came, but you wouldn't wake up and it's my fault—"

"Rose, stop, please stop," he begged as her rambling quickly grew into hysteria. Her eyes were fixed on the wall; whatever hell she saw, it was not visible from McGonagall's office. "You're safe. You're safe. I'm here. I'm not going to leave you. Please, Rose. I promise you'll never be alone again."

She continued to rave, retreating farther and farther into her private nightmare until Severus tried one, last drastic ploy. "Miss Potter, stop this nonsense this instant! I don't know what has come over you, but this behavior will not be tolerated, do I make myself clear?"

His unexpected reprimand was like a slap in the face. She took a huge, shuddering breath, and then looked around in confusion.

"Professor? Why are we in Professor McGonagall's office?"

He could barely find the strength to answer. "I am unsure."

He couldn't answer the question. He didn't understand why they were in Minerva's office any more than she did. Why had Poppy given her to Minerva? Why not let a trained healer examine her? Was there a danger that she could return to a catatonic-like state? Had she experienced a flashback? Nightmare? Something else? Had the Cruciatus Curse been a trigger or the cause?

"What is the last thing you remember?" he finally asked when it was apparent she was waiting for him to say something.

"I . . . Peter Pettigrew. Madame Hooch said he was Peter Pettigrew. He had his wand to my throat. Was I struck by lightning? I've never hurt so badly. You saved me, but we were flying, except you weren't on a broom. I think . . . I think I was on a broom, because I don't remember falling, but you did. You fell and everything stank and I remember you wouldn't wake up. People were shouting, but I didn't . . . I don't remember any more."

He hugged her against his chest, unable to speak without his emotions overwhelming him. She clung to him just as tightly. After a while, though, she pulled back, anxious and full of questions.

"How did I get here? Are you alright? Was that really Peter Pettigrew? What happened to Sirius Black? Was it Polyjuice? Why did he impersonate me? Was he going to hurt you? Where's Ron? And Fred and George? Are they alright? Did someone use a memory charm on me again? Everything seems a little fuzzy, Professor. I'm really tired."

He put his hands on her shoulders, hoping he could calm her before she worked herself up into another fit of hysteria. "Rose, look at me. Look into my eyes."

She did without hesitation. He didn't employ Legilimency; his head ached too much for the effort, but he did catch her attention. She immediately stilled.

"That's right. Take a few deep breaths. I shall answer your questions one at a time. You're safe. There's no hurry."

Once he was certain she had accepted his reassurances, he let go of her, though she made no move to get off his lap. Carefully, he tucked her tangled hair behind her ears.

"That's better. Now, which question would you like for me to answer first?"

"How did I get here? The last thing I remember, you were on the ground, not moving. You wouldn't wake up. No one could get you to wake up."

She seemed on the verge of panic simply remembering his state of unconsciousness. Severus tried to combat her runaway emotions by making light of his injury.

"I am most certainly awake now, Rose. Though, the ground did get the better of me for a while. For that, I apologize."

"You're truly alright?"

"Alright is a relative term. I am functioning as well as I was before forcefully impacting the ground. Unlike a character in a clichéd serial, the second blow to my head did not reverse the damage of the first."

Scrunching up her nose, she studied him intently. "Professor? You know you can be an annoying git at times, right?"

He couldn't hide his grin, nor did he wish to. He experienced an emotion he hadn't felt since Christmas—hope. "I'll have you know I have prided myself on being just that for many years. I'm afraid you'll simply have to learn to live with it."

He expected to tease a smile out of her. Instead, tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. "I thought I had lost you."

"When I saw Pettigrew pressing his wand against your neck, I was terrified that I would lose you as well. Yet, we are both here. I am here, Rose. I am not going to leave you."

Sniffling, she hastily wiped her eyes. "Yeah, we are, aren't we? Only, do you think, maybe, you could explain how we got here, and what exactly is going on, because I pretty much haven't got a clue, Professor, and usually when odd things happen around here, people expect me to know."

He'd never been so proud of her Gryffindor bravery. "Of course, Rose. As I said before, there is no need to rush. We'll take it one step at a time."


	34. Steeped in the Past

Author's note – Hola! No, I did not move to Spain, although it's a wonderful country and I had a great vacation. I did move, though, and that has taken up most of my time. Thanks to everyone for their patience and for putting this story on alert. I thought posting would be a great diversion from unpacking all those pesky boxes I didn't unpack from our last move, so here's the next chapter. Hope it makes sense. It's been a while since I had time to write!

* * *

><p>Fred and George Weasley hoisted Rose on their shoulders as an exuberant cheer arose from the Gryffindor table. Oliver Wood tried to make a speech, but it was clear to Severus that no one paid him the least bit of attention. The Potions professor smiled into his coffee cup. His ward sported an ear to ear grin at the news that she had been reinstated as Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.<p>

Rose's Quidditch status wasn't the only topic of conversation that morning. The Great Hall buzzed with rumor and speculation. The students had returned from Easter holidays with the knowledge that the Ministry had wrongly imprisoned Sirius Black in Azkaban for over a decade. Pages of articles had already been published in the _Daily Prophet_ questioning the morality, not to mention the legality, of convicting a suspect without the benefit of a trial.

Of course, Black had come out of the whole mess looking like some tragic hero. Rita Skeeter had done a three page spread on his disastrous quest for vengeance against the childhood friend who had betrayed James Potter. Her description of the time he had spent in Azkaban had brought many a woman to tears, Molly Weasley included.

Frankly, much of the article had made Severus nauseous, but Black had managed to keep Rose's personal life private. While he didn't appreciate the public reminder that the Marauder was her godfather, he had to credit Black for answering with a simple "I can't say" every time the journalist asked about the Potter's surviving child. Midway through the interview, Skeeter finally gave up asking. While the former spy knew that wouldn't be the end of it, he was glad for the respite. Neither he nor Rose was ready for such public scrutiny.

Then, there was the question of Peter Pettigrew. Since his status as an unregistered Animagus had been revealed, parents were in an uproar about Hogwarts security like never before. Luckily for Rose, the coward had been sighted in both London and Salisbury. The Headmaster had finally been able to convince the Ministry to return the dementors to Azkaban after pointing out that they hadn't been much of a deterrent in the first place.

Even the Head Table was awash in gossip. Remus Lupin animatedly discussed the prospect of Black's release to anyone who would listen. Gulping down the remainder of his coffee, Snape intended to retreat to the dungeons before the wolf could gather his courage for a private chat. The last thing he wanted to do before classes was listen to his colleague's justifications for keeping Black's secret, and by default, Pettigrew's. Before he could quietly escape to his classroom, however, Minerva tapped him gently on the shoulder.

"It's so good to see her smiling again. Was Healer Wellby able to tell you why she might have reacted so drastically to the Cruciatus Curse?"

Turning towards his confidant, he considered his answer before replying. He and Rose had spent Easter weekend with the Weasley clan. It had meant enduring Molly's mothering, but after Pettigrew's attack, they had both needed a change of scenery. As soon as he stepped foot into the Burrow, though, Molly had insisted he see a healer. Snape had seized the opportunity, calling upon the healer who had tended to him at St. Mungo's and inviting him to make a house call.

It had only taken a few moments of Legilemency to determine that Mark Wellby was both discreet and trustworthy. After submitting to his own examination, Severus had asked the talented young healer to examine Rose. The results had not been any worse than he expected, but that didn't mean they were to his liking.

"Healer Wellby believes the curse may have temporarily affected the memory charm Albus placed upon her. He suggested that her reaction was delayed shock to the original trauma. Since it resolved itself, he advised me to let sleeping hellhounds lie."

McGonagall watched her Gryffindors continue to celebrate the return of their star Seeker, her lips compressed into a tight, thin line. Finally, she asked the one question he had hoped not to have to answer.

"What if it happens again?"

Involuntarily, he clenched his fist. "It won't."

"But if it does?"

"It won't," he repeated in a voice even the Deputy Headmistress didn't dare question. Prudently, she changed the subject.

"Did Kingsley give you any trouble?"

"For harboring a wizard wrongly convicted of a crime? Hardly. He was more interested in hearing how I discovered Pettigrew had been posing as the Weasley's pet."

"Something you didn't see fit to share with the rest of us," she replied with an indignant sniff.

He bristled at the accusation. A little over a week ago, he had been the victim of ridicule for insisting that a rat Animagus had the run of Hogwarts. It was so easy for everyone to forget that little detail except him.

"Would you have believed me, Minerva?"

The older woman flushed. "You should have informed us," she insisted without directly answering the question. She didn't need to; they both knew the truth. After a few minutes, she offered a genuine apology for her lack of faith, which he awkwardly accepted. They were both relieved when he made his excuses and left the table. Disgruntled, he brooded all the way to his classroom.

* * *

><p>Ten minutes before the beginning of his Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first years' class, Rose barreled into the Potions lab, exuberant and out of breath.<p>

"Did you hear, Professor? I'm back on the team! I can play Seeker for the last two games! Isn't it brilliant?"

His mood improved as soon as she walked through the door. Seeing her happy put everything in perspective.

"I believe only someone as self-absorbed as Professor Binns could have missed the news, Miss Potter. The spectacle was quite grandiose, even by Gryffindor standards."

Her eyes found the ground as she mistook his dry humor for irritation. "Yeah, well, I thought you might have missed it. I looked for you in the Great Hall and you weren't there. I'll just go to Herbology, then."

Sensing her upset, he quickly softened his tone. "I left early to prepare for class, Rose, but I did see how much the announcement pleased the rest of your House. Your skills on and off the Quidditch pitch makes me very proud."

"They do? But, you don't even like Quidditch."

"My like or dislike of Quidditch is irrelevant. If I didn't think it would be a waste of a talented mind, I would encourage you to play professionally."

Her mouth gaped open. "You would? You really think I'm that good, Professor?"

Her green eyes were bright with excitement, and he smiled at her humble disbelief. Draco Malfoy would have taken the compliment as his due, but Rose could scarcely comprehend that he had noticed her playing, never mind her talent. His smile dimmed as he considered that fact. How long had she been judged by the scar on her forehead rather than her true self?

"Rose, you have the potential to succeed in any endeavor you might wish to pursue. If you continue to apply yourself, you will be a very formidable witch."

When her lips began to tremble, he feared she had somehow misunderstood him. Perhaps he should have been more lavish with his praise. Pulling her into a hug, he felt her entire body shake.

"I did not mean to imply that you are currently lacking in any manner, Rose. You have faced more challenges in your three years at Hogwarts than many witches encounter in a lifetime. Your mastery of the Patronus Charm at such a young age is a testament to your determination and skill. I wouldn't be surprised if the Auror Department didn't try to recruit you when they hear of it. You are a very exceptional young lady."

She squeezed him so tightly he thought his ribs might crack. Just as he heard a cacophony of voices in the hallway, she pulled back, putting the desk between them. Her eyes were dry, but she swallowed thickly several times before she found her voice.

"Sorry, Professor," she whispered as the first years began to take their seats. "It's just, I never really thought about growing up before. I guess in the back of my mind, I thought I'd be . . . . Well, it's nice to know you think differently."

Before he could react, she ran out of his classroom. He longed to race after her, to make promises they both knew he couldn't keep, but his students were waiting expectantly in their desks. Torn, he took out the Marauders' Map. He watched Rose safely make her way to the Herbology greenhouse, and then he reluctantly put it away.

Well used to focusing on one task while thinking of another, he began the day's lesson.

"Today, we will be discussing the use of toads in potions. Can anyone tell me which parts of a toad are used in Wartcap powder? . . . .

* * *

><p>Severus couldn't wait for the end of his afternoon class. As his students turned in their vials, Rose occupied his thoughts. Surreptitiously, he checked the map. She was still in Filius' classroom. He hoped to catch her before she returned to her Common Room.<p>

Before the last student trailed out, however, Lupin barged in. He'd never seen the wolf so excited.

"Sirius has been exonerated by the Wizengamot."

Shoving several rolls of parchment into his satchel, Severus stared balefully at the unwelcome delay.

"Forgive me for not jumping for joy, but I have better things to do with my time."

He tried to walk past the tatty wizard, but Lupin forgot himself in his exhilaration and placed a hand on Snape's arm. The Potions Master jerked back as if he'd been burned.

"Don't touch me again."

His reactions seemed to stun the werewolf.

"I thought you'd wish to know. Sirius told me that you'd invited him to spend time with Rose. I thought you'd finally put the past behind you."

He couldn't believe the arrogance of the Marauder. Angrily, he pounded the wall. "And, how do you propose I do that? Move to Majorca? In case you haven't noticed, my life is steeped in the past."

Lupin held up his hand in a placating gesture. "No one is questioning your dedication to Rose, Severus. I had merely hoped that after working so closely with Sirius over the last few months, you would have found it within yourself to forgive him for his childish pranks."

"Childish pranks? The same childish pranks that almost turned you into a murderer? Almost killed me?"

"Severus, please."

"Please what?" he thundered, truly enraged. "Please forget how he tormented me solely on the basis of my House affiliation? Forget how he shunned his own brother for the same grievance? Black and I share a common enemy. That does not mean we have to be friends. His maturity level rivals that of a childish chimp, and I for one, have no intention of being made into a monkey by the likes of him. Now, if you will excuse me, I have somewhere else to be."

Grasping his satchel in his good hand, he limped out of the room, acutely aware that he was retreating from his own classroom. Lupin caught up with him as he mounted the stairs. For a moment, Snape thought he was going to pass without speaking, but he wasn't so lucky. His fellow professor stopped him on the top stair, his face suffused with unexpected sympathy. The battle-scarred wizard hated that expression most of all.

"I am sorry, Severus."

His glare was withering. "That is abundantly clear." Curtly taking his leave, he stalked towards the Charms classroom.

* * *

><p>"Professor? Are you looking for me?"<p>

Glancing upwards, he scowled as a matter of course. He'd been so wrapped up in the past that he hadn't noticed Rose approaching in the hallway. She was flanked by Granger and Weasley, who stared at him as if he had sprouted horns. Belatedly, he schooled his expression into one of careful neutrality.

"I had wished to continue our conversation from this morning. However, I can see that you are otherwise occupied. Perhaps you could meet me in my classroom after dinner tonight."

Looking back and forth between Ron and Hermione, Rose played with her charm bracelet, clearly unsure of how to answer. Miss Granger nudged her none too subtly in the arm, and she finally replied with false cheer.

"Now would be great, Professor. I'm free until dinner."

He heard Weasley cough something that sounded suspiciously like "Quidditch" and cursed himself for a fool. Of course the Gryffindors had a practice scheduled now that their star Seeker was cleared to play. Stumbling over his words, he quickly backtracked.

"Actually, I just remembered that I have to see the Headmaster about . . . ."

His mind blanked. He couldn't think of a single reason why he would wish to see the Headmaster. He'd been avoiding Albus since their brief conversation on Good Friday. No matter how conciliatory the powerful wizard had been, Snape couldn't get the thought out of his head that Dumbledore was biding his time for the proper moment to say, 'I told you so'.

"I imagine you'd have to speak to the Headmaster about the new security measures for the castle, don't you, sir? I mean, there must be loads of new procedures now that the Ministry knows Pettigrew and Black are unregistered Animagus."

He regarded Miss Granger with newfound respect. The bushy-haired know-it-all was mature beyond her years. She, too, would make a very formidable witch.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. That is precisely the reason why I shouldn't tarry. Rose, I shall see you this evening, unless you would prefer to meet with me tomorrow."

She continued to play with her bracelet, and her too bright smile quickly turned into a worried frown. "Tonight's okay, I guess. I just don't think we need . . . I mean, it's not like . . . ."

Astonishingly, it was Mr. Weasley who attempted to smooth over the suddenly awkward pause.

"For Merlin's sake, Rose, Snape's not going to bite your head off! He's probably worried about you. Hermione already explained how most adults panic when they hear a kid talk about dying. There's such a thing as being too honest with your parents, you know."

He was dumbfounded by Ronald Weasley's endorsement. His shock must have shown on his face because the young man grinned widely, cheekily commenting on his reaction.

"You might try to hide it, but I reckon Mum has the right of it, Professor. She told me this weekend that you're the best thing that ever happened to Rose. Said she needed a proper parent to give her rules and tell her she's worth something. Don't know about the rules bit, but Rose does tend to forget she's got people who care about her. If you can manage to convince her, then I guess you aren't such a greasy git after all."

"Ron!" Hermione hissed as Snape's ward turned beet red and ducked her head in embarrassment.

Severus clamped his jaw shut, counting to one thousand as he attempted to foment the proper response. In the end, he ignored Ronald Weasley's speech altogether. It was either that, or give the boy detention until he came of age. Frankly, he didn't think he could survive that much exposure to the youngest Weasley son.

"Be that as it may, I shall see you after dinner, Rose. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some business to take care of."

He swept down the hall as quickly as he could, his black robes billowing behind him. He couldn't refute the fact that Rose placed little value on her life. Time and again, she placed herself in danger to save others with no regard for her safety. Molly Weasley was correct in thinking that the child needed to be reminded of her own worth. In that, he feared he would be fighting an uphill battle as he attempted to overcome years of conditioning by the Dursleys.

* * *

><p>Grading essays, Severus forgot all about dinner. When Rose knocked on the door to his classroom that evening, he abruptly realized that he had missed it completely. It was a good excuse to invite her to his quarters. He craved caffeine and privacy. Rose agreed with obvious reluctance, but he chose to ignore her misgivings. He rightly guessed that the young witch feared a lecture after her earlier candor.<p>

Sitting down at the tiny kitchen table, her eyes swept the living area of his apartment. Nothing had changed since her last visit to his quarters, so he took her interest to be nothing more than an excuse to remain silent. After her earlier openness, he wasn't surprised.

"Tea, Rose?"

She watched warily as he took out the Muggle kettle. "Maybe we should talk some other time, Professor. I have homework tonight."

He answered mildly as he put the water on to boil. "You should have homework every night."

"Professor Trewlawny assigned a dream journal over Easter break. I haven't had time to finish it. And, Professor McGonagal gave us an essay to write tonight in Transfiguration. On top of that, Professor Flitwick wants us to practice our Cheering Charm and Hagrid offered to let me feed his bowtruckles for extra credit."

He smiled at her tactics. Appealing to his scholastic nature in the hopes of avoiding an unwelcome discussion was a very Slytherin maneuver.

"From everything I've heard, Hagrid is a generous instructor. I am certain he would allow you to assist him another night. However, if you are having difficulty in Charms, I would be happy to assist you."

Her shoulders sagged in defeat. "That's okay, Professor. I actually don't need the extra practice. Hermione and I are the only ones who have mastered the spell."

The kettle began to sing, and she grasped at one last excuse to leave. "I did promise to help Ron, though, and you know how much help he needs sometimes."

Suppressing a smirk, he poured the boiling water over the tea leaves. "While your desire to help Mr. Weasley is an honorable one, he will have to wait. As I stated before, I would like to continue the conversation we began this morning."

"Oh."

She watched with the air of a condemned prisoner as he finished preparing the tea. After adding a generous amount of milk and sugar to hers, he handed her the steaming cup. Sullenly, she wrapped her hands around the hot porcelain and stared at the far corner of the kitchen.

Glancing at the Muggle toaster oven that she suddenly found so very fascinating, he began to have misgivings. Perhaps he should drop the topic altogether if it was distressing her so much. After a moment's contemplation, though, he abandoned the thought. Whatever she feared needed to be confronted directly, before it festered into an actual problem. Taking a sip of his own tea, he hoped for the best.

"Considering your circumstances, your assumptions weren't that illogical."

Screwing up her face, she looked at him as if he had suddenly declared the world flat.

"Huh?"

Grimacing at her lack of eloquence, he nevertheless continued. "Your assumption that you would not grow up was not an irrational one considering your circumstances, Rose. I shall not pretend that the Dursleys did anything other than abuse you. Your uncle beat you. Your aunt forced you to spend your childhood in a cupboard. They barely fed you. And, they encouraged their pig of a son to treat you as something less than human. Then, you arrived at Hogwarts only to come face to face with the very wizard who killed your parents and would like nothing more than to see you dead. No, Miss Potter, I am not surprised that you have contemplated the possibility of your death."

At the mention of her abuse, Rose's expression blanked to the extent that he could no longer read her emotions. She carefully placed the teacup on the counter in order to rub her face. When she finally took her hands away, he deliberately gazed into the deep green of her irises. The pain reflected there aged her beyond her years.

Gravely, with a maturity that surprised him, she unflinchingly met his gaze. Without conscious thought, she pushed every miserable minute of her existence with the Dursleys to the forefront of her mind. Bombarded by the sheer enormity of her suffering, he could only marvel at her courage.

"I would never—"

"Of course you wouldn't. I merely wished to put your mind at ease. You are a remarkable young woman and a credit to your House."

His agreement seemed to confuse her. "But Hermione said that you'd be upset. She said that most adults would worry I was mental or something."

His hand started to shake as he handed Rose her cup of tea. It shouldn't be so difficult to admit that he understood all too well, but it was. Even after so many years, he feared the pity, feared another's judgment, even hers. Hated as he was, Tobias had been his father. He could only hope Rose wouldn't condemn him as a coward.

"R-Rose, the r-r-reason . . . ."

Severus clamped his jaw shut. He refused to stammer and stutter his way through his confession.

"Professor?"

He held up his hand, silently asking for her patience. After a moment, he composed himself enough to make another attempt. The Potions Master's voice was clipped, cold and clinical, but he didn't stutter once.

"My father Tobias was a Muggle. My mother did not see fit to inform him that she was a witch until the day I was born. By all accounts, he was less than pleased. To prove she was no better than he, my father beat and bullied my mother until the day she died. When I displayed my first bout of accidental magic at the age of five, he turned his anger towards me. Until I met your mother's family, I thought all Muggles treated wizards and witches as something less than human."

The silence stretched between them, and he feared he had revealed too much. He needn't have worried. Again, her maturity astounded him.

"I think it's more that we're incredibly unlucky, Professor. I met Hermione's parents at King's Cross last year. They're slightly mental when it comes to healthy eating, but other than that, they're very nice. Though, they're dentists, and perhaps that's the way dentists behave. I wouldn't know. Aunt Petunia never took me to a dentist."

He matched her matter of fact tone, grateful that she had understood without the necessity of a lengthy discussion.

"You are fortunate, then, that most witches and wizards do not experience tooth decay as a result of their diet."

Sipping her tea, she regarded him quizzically. "Then why did most of the merchants in Knockturn Alley have such rotten teeth?"

Though he longed to ask how the hell she had ever ended up in Knockturn Alley, he reined in his curiosity to answer her question.

"I said our teeth do not decay as a result of diet. Certain potions and spells can have a detrimental effect on teeth and gums. Sadly, such effects are usually permanent."

She scowled with disgust. "Remind me to stay away from those."

"Since they are firmly grounded in the Dark Arts, I doubt that will be necessary. I trust you are intelligent enough to avoid them altogether."

Theatrically, she rolled her eyes. Such a normal, childish gesture reassured him like nothing else could. His earlier assessment had been correct. Rose was an exceptional young lady who was well on her way to becoming a formidable witch. And, anyone who believed otherwise would have to contend with him first.


	35. The Godfather

Author's Notes - I really don't know where to begin. I could give a long explanation about my busy summer, or talk about all the changes on the site, or even explain some of the reasoning for this chapter, but I think I'll skip that for now to let you read. Thanks to everyone who is still following this story, and a very special thanks to everyone who has taken the time to leave a comment. Yes, I know, the chapter ends on a bit of a cliffhanger; don't worry, the next one will be posted within the week. Hope you enjoy!

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><p>Waiting at the Hogsmeade station, Severus Snape impatiently checked his watch. The train was not due for another twelve minutes, a full three minutes less than the last time he had checked. There were few people milling about the platform on such a stormy Friday evening; nevertheless, he scrutinized each and every one. When he was satisfied that none of them were reporters in disguise, he again checked his watch.<p>

Eight minutes until Sirius Black was due to arrive from London. Thirty-eight minutes until the Marauder was scheduled to meet with Albus. And, ninety-eight minutes before Severus would introduce Rose to her godfather. The thought of that made the Potions Master's hands sweat.

What if Black made a claim for Rose? While Snape had papers signed by Lily's sister granting him custody of the child, there was no denying that Black had been named as her godfather. The court battle could take years to decide and cost a fortune in legal fees, a fortune that Severus did not possess but Black did.

Six minutes . . . .

What if Rose chose Black over him? The wizard was grossly immature, but such a character flaw might be seen as an asset to an independent teenager. Black also had the means to impress her with flashy gifts; he'd already done so with the Firebolt. Perhaps most damning of all, he could tell her the stories she wanted to hear, the stories of her early life with her mother and father.

Three minutes . . . .

Did he deserve Rose? He was the reason she was an orphan, and eventually, she would discover the truth. For all his faults, Black was loyal.

Two minutes . . . .

Did he truly have to do this? He didn't want to face Black. The man could get under his skin like no one else.

One minute . . . .

'This is for Rose; this is for Rose,' he thought over and over, the voice in his head taking on the rhythm of a steam locomotive.

The whistle blew as the train pulled into the station.

Severus schooled his face into a polite mask, at least as polite as he could manage. His mouth resembled a grimace much more than a smile, but there were few to witness his momentary lapse. By the time Black stepped off the train, they were thankfully alone.

"Snape! You're looking a damn sight better than when I saw you last!"

A more genuine smile on his face, Sirius bounded off the train, gripping a small overnight bag and a bright pink gift sack. He, too, looked better than he had at their last meeting. Six weeks had put meat on his bones and the flush of health on his cheeks. His black hair was artfully mussed in a way that made it very clear he had taken time to style it, and his robes were cut in the latest fashion.

Severus searched for something polite to say that couldn't be misconstrued as a compliment. In the end, he grunted in assent and reluctantly stuck out his hand. Putting down his suitcase, Black eagerly took it.

"I can't tell you how much this means to me, Severus. When I was in Azkaban, the thought of getting to know Rose was more than I could ever imagine."

"She is eager to speak to you," he replied begrudgingly before turning to lead his guest to Hogwarts.

Walking to the castle as speedily as he could through the wind and drizzle, Snape wondered not for the first time why Black had required an escort at all. It wasn't as if he hadn't been making the same trek all year long, or ages ago as a student for that matter. At least his unwelcome companion didn't try to fill the silence with inane conversation.

The one-time Marauder honored his need for quiet until they entered the castle. Then, he chattered like a magpie, asking ceaseless questions about Rose's likes and dislikes.

"I brought some treats for her that were James' favorites: an extra-large box of Mr. Spindley's color changing candy floss, elastic licorice whips and a tin of Everlasting Bubble bubble gum. If she's anything like James, she has a sweet tooth."

Severus took immense satisfaction in wiping the eager smile off his face. "Rose is partial to chocolate, the darker the better."

"Ah, I'll have to remember that. Perhaps she can share these with her friends."

Black looked positively glum as they made their way to Dumbledore's office on the seventh floor. Snape speculated briefly that the former fugitive might be as nervous as he, and then he dismissed the thought as absurd. He doubted Black had ever been nervous in his life.

He stopped at the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office. Severus had not been invited to dine with the two, which was perfectly fine with him. He was relieved not to have to participate in dinner conversation that would inevitably revolve around Black's escapades at Hogwarts.

"I will introduce you to Rose in exactly one hour. The wolf is not invited."

Sirius opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and snapped his jaw closed. Just then, the gargoyle stepped aside, and the wall parted to reveal the spiral staircase. Dumbledore peered from the top, waving enthusiastically to his dinner partner.

"Sirius! It's a delight to see you again. Come, come. We have much to discuss in a very short amount of time."

Black grinned up at his host. "It's good to see you, too, Headmaster."

Stepping onto the staircase, he looked back at Severus, the idiotic grin still on his face. "I'll see you in an hour. Tell Rose that I can't wait to meet her properly this time!"

* * *

><p>Temporarily relieved of his obligation, Severus made his way to the Great Hall, where he most decidedly did not tell Rose that Black was looking forward to meeting her. He had caught Lupin doing just that on more than one occasion, and to repeat the sentiment would be redundant. Besides, Black could tell her himself in an hour's time.<p>

Brooding, he picked at his dinner, not daring to look up from his plate lest one of the other members of staff see fit to question him about Black's overnight visit to Hogwarts. He already questioned his sanity on extending the invitation in the first place. But, Rose had expressed an interest in meeting him, and Black had written him specifically asking for permission to watch Rose play Seeker in the last Quidditch match of the season.

He was still pushing his mushy peas around his plate when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Yes?" His tone was forbidding, the kind he used on students who asked to borrow a quill during an exam, and he regretted it the instant he saw who had interrupted him.

Rose fiddled with her charm bracelet, rocking back and forth on her heels as if she contemplated flight. The hall was empty but for the two of them. Severus felt a brief flash of pride at the fact that he had managed to intimidate his tablemates into leaving without saying a word.

"Eager to meet your godfather?"

He had expected an enthusiastic yes, not her eyes widening in sheer panic.

"Rose? What's wrong? I thought you wished to make Black's acquaintance."

Not for the first time, he wished he had put an Anti-Breaking Charm on her bracelet. Lily had never twisted it so nervously.

"I did. I do. But, I thought Ron was mental until Hermione agreed . . . . I mean, she didn't want to, Professor, but . . . . And, I want to meet him, but I don't want to meet him if, that is—"

"Perhaps it would be best if you take a moment and simply tell me what Miss Granger said to upset you so much. While she is a very bright student, she is still a student. She is not always correct in her assumptions."

His distraught ward took a very deep breath. "She said since my parents named Sirius Black as my godfather, I might have to go live with him."

"And that upset you?" He asked with the same outward detachment a psychologist might employ. Inwardly, he shared her fears.

Rose exploded. "Of course it did! I'm supposed to live with you! You promised! You said you're stuck with me, and I thought you meant it in a good way! You did, didn't you? I mean, you're not trying to get rid of me, are you? Because I know I've been a right nuisance at times, and you're not used to kids, er, kids outside of the Potions classroom. But, I promise you'll hardly know I'm around, and—"

"Rose, stop."

Taking her hand, he tugged her towards him, and then wrapped her in a tight hug. He had been shocked at how quickly her anxieties had spewed from her mouth, and how similar they were to his. However, Severus didn't want her to believe for a second that any of them were true, even if there was the potential for events to unfold just as her two friends had predicted.

"It would have upset me as well. I have made it clear how much I care for you, have I not? So, none of this nonsense. Miss Granger has forgotten that Petunia Dursley is your mother's sister. She had every right to sign the guardianship papers. You are, as you said, stuck with me."

"You're certain, Professor?"

It had been easier to lie to the Dark Lord. In the end, he artfully deflected the question. "You doubt me, Miss Potter?"

She flushed scarlet. "No! Of course I don't! I just, well, Hermione seemed so sure . . . ."

"You don't have to meet him."

The thought had obviously not occurred to her. "I don't?"

"You are under no obligation to speak to Sirius Black, Rose, godfather or no."

She carefully considered her options. He could practically see the thoughts spinning through her head, though he refused to look. After a few moments, her face took an expression of stubborn determination.

"I'll meet him, Professor. He must have been a good friend of my parents to have been named my godfather. I think I owe him that much, at least."

Proud of her decision, even if he still privately worried that Black would somehow turn her against him, Severus gave her a rare smile.

"A very commendable choice, Rose. I am pleased that you were able to put your fears aside to consider the situation in its entirety."

She perked up at his praise, though she painfully gripped his hand as they walked together towards the Headmaster's office. As they reached the seventh floor, she scraped the toes of her trainers behind her on the stone floor, betraying her mounting nervousness. Leaning against his cane, he whispered in her ear.

"Do you think he still has fleas?"

"Professor!"

A second later, her laugh started out as a suppressed giggle, erupted from her nose as an unladylike snort and finally ended in loud guffaw that brought tears to her eyes. They rounded a corner to find Black pacing back in forth in front of the gargoyle, and she hastily composed herself. Then, she impulsively hugged Severus in an uncharacteristic public display of affection.

Suppressing a smirk, he willingly hugged her back. Though he usually was wary of acknowledging their bond in front of others, he wasn't about to reject Rose when she had all but announced where her loyalties lay. Let Black see that she was comfortable around him, he thought, momentarily forgetting that the wizard had had ample opportunity to observe the two together over most of the school year.

When she finally let go, he took her hand to lead her closer to Black. "Rose, this is your godfather, Sirius Black."

"Hello, Mr. Black."

If the handsome wizard noticed (as Severus had) that her greeting was less than enthusiastic, he was gracious enough not to mention it. Instead, he beamed at her, putting down his suitcase to offer her his hand. Easing her grip on Snape's fingers, she took her godfather's hand.

"Please call me Sirius, Rose. Mr. Black reminds me too much of my father, someone I'd frankly rather forget."

Breaking the handshake, he offered her the sack. "These are for you, although from what Severus has said, you may wish to share them with your friends rather than keep them for yourself. They were James' favorites."

Pulling out the pink tissue paper, she looked into the sack. "Thank you, Mr., er, Sirius. There's enough sweets in here to share with half of Gryffindor. I'll be sure to tell everyone they came from you."

Snape observed Black carefully as Rose fumbled her way through some small talk. He was sure of it now; Black appeared to be anxious, although the Potions Master couldn't conceive of a reason why. Rose, while more composed, rapidly ran out of things to say. For her, he filled the silence.

"I expect you to escort Miss Potter to Professor McGonagall's office no later than nine, Black. She will see Rose to her dormitory tonight. Unless you intend to carry your luggage for the next two hours, I suggest you shrink it to a more manageable size. I have no intention of being your porter this evening. Let me remind you that I have the map; I expect you to honor the stipulation I set forth earlier. I also expect you to return to my quarters immediately after your visit with Rose. While you might be used to lazing about, I have duties as Head of House that necessitate I retire early. I won't have you carousing about the castle with your school chums at all hours of the night only to wake me when you finally decide to drag yourself to bed."

Sirius jauntily nodded at Snape before whispering a loud aside to Rose. "Merlin help you when you decide to date."

Biting back a laugh, she glanced at her guardian. "I know. Professor Snape's said as much."

With that comment, the tension between the young witch and her godfather rapidly dissipated. Severus took that as his cue to bid her a goodnight. He hugged her, though he was self-conscious enough of Black's presence this time to make it brief. When he reached his quarters, he tried to distract himself with the latest Potions journal, but he finally gave up after reading the same letter to the editor four times. It was going to be a very long two hours.

* * *

><p>At five past nine, Sirius Black knocked on the door to the Potions Master's private quarters. After a brief wait, Snape begrudgingly invited him inside.<p>

"I'd say make yourself at home, Black, but we both know I don't mean that. I cannot comprehend why the Headmaster insisted that you stay with me when there are accommodations to be had in town."

For the first time, Black let his irritation show. "I'm well aware of your feelings towards me, Snape. Remus has spoken of nothing else in the past few weeks. If it were up to me, I'd be at the Three Broomsticks, renewing my acquaintance with Rosmerta."

"Then, by all means, be my guest. I would never dream of depriving Madame Rosmerta of the opportunity to enjoy your illustrious company."

"If that were an option, I would take it. I'm beginning to remember why I hated you so much when we were children. If that tongue of yours were any sharper, your mouth would be bleeding."

Severus could feel the old anger rekindling. "Don't pretend your feelings have changed, Black. I'm not thick. The only reason you haven't used the things I told Grim against me is that it would upset Rose. Being civil to me is merely a means to an end."

Sirius threw his hands up in exasperation. "You're too blinded by hate to see what's in front of that beak you call a nose! Don't you think it's odd our dear Headmaster forced the two of us together like this? He wants us to fight over Rose like two squabbling children."

"So you admit it? You plan on contesting my guardianship?"

"For Merlin's sake, Severus! Listen to what I'm saying for once, will you? I tried to explain when you found out about Grim, but it obviously hasn't sunk into that thick skull of yours yet. I have no intention of betraying you or hurting Rose. Challenging the guardianship would do both."

The insults peppered throughout Black's tirade aggravated his already short temper. Pushing past that, however, he longed to believe the wealthy wizard's declaration. Rose had suffered enough without adding a custody fight to her long list of traumas. Unfortunately, harsh experience had taught him not to trust anyone's word, much less a Marauder's.

"And, what proof do you offer besides your word for that? I remember your tricks, Black. I will not allow you to give me enough rope to hang myself."

Sirius sunk onto the leather sofa, gazing at the books in the cozy sitting area, seemingly at an impasse. When he finally answered, he sounded worn out, and his eyes held the same desperation they had when Black was a half-starved, obsessed fugitive.

"I am not asking you to forgive me, Severus, or even like me for that matter. But, you must believe me; this isn't some sort of ruse. I've kept Rose's name out of the papers, haven't I? Rita Skeeter would have given anything to publish the story of our tearful reunion, but I refused. That's not the act of a wizard who intends to challenge her guardianship. I gave you the map when I could have kept it for myself. I asked you for permission to watch the match when we both know I didn't need it. I wish to be a part of her life, but I refuse to do it at your expense. If you tell me to leave this instant and never speak to her again, I will honor your decision."

Black's logic blindsided him. He was used to the wizard's dirty tricks, not a rational, measured argument. The thought of a hack like Rita Skeeter interviewing Rose filled him with disgust. There was no telling what harm the woman could do to her fragile self-esteem. Moreover, Black had given him the map when he was under no obligation to do so. Perhaps Azkaban had changed the arrogant wizard more than he had suspected. He seemed to genuinely care for his godchild. Even so, the words did not come easily to his lips.

"Rose has the final say in the matter. However, don't mistake my newfound tolerance for friendship, Black. I do not have to like you personally to acknowledge the truth in your speech."

Sirius' lips twitched, and the haunted look he had worn only moments before fled. "I wouldn't dream of it, Severus. And, for what's it worth, thank you."

The Potions Master paused at the door to his bedroom. "For what it's worth, you're welcome."

* * *

><p>"She's magnificent! I don't think I've ever seen a Seeker as daring. And, that Firebolt makes everyone else look like they're flying through treacle. I'm surprised she hasn't been approached by Puddlemere United. They often recruit from Hogwarts."<p>

Listening to Black rave about Rose's feats on the Quidditch pitch usually would have annoyed Severus, but the Potions Master happened to agree with his assessment. Rose was magnificent, zooming and diving as she searched for the Snitch while zigzagging around Gryffindors and Ravenclaws alike. And, Black was absolutely correct; with the Firebolt she seemed unstoppable.

The game would have been won long ago if the Snitch hadn't been hiding so well. After nine hours, it had yet to be spotted. Lee Jordan had wondered several times during his commentary if it might not be afraid of the Gryffindor Seeker, and Severus privately concurred. Once it surfaced, he knew Rose would quickly capture it. Her flying that day was flawless.

Professor McGonagall couldn't resist responding to Black's praise. "Miss Potter is much too young to think about a professional Quidditch career, Sirius. Though the minute I saw her dive for Mr. Longbottom's Rememberall, I knew she had talent. James would have been so proud."

"And Lily would have been beside herself with worry. She never did appreciate Quidditch like the rest of us."

Caught up in the excitement of the game, he enthusiastically clapped Severus on the shoulder. "What did you two get up to instead of Quidditch matches, anyway? She never would say, even after she and James started dating. She'd just give him this insufferably smug grin. It drove him crazy, especially when I told him that saying about noses must be true."

Reflexively, he jerked away, his anger broiling over. How dare Black insinuate such a thing! His love for Lily had been pure. They had been friends; she had trusted him. He had never done so much as try to kiss her, for Circe's sake!

Then, a strange thing happened. His rage evaporated. For the first time, he privately acknowledged that he had never tried to kiss Lily because she would have never reciprocated. His love might have been pure, but it had also been one-sided. She had seen him as nothing more as a friend, and towards the end of their relationship, something less than that. He had been a convenient companion, a reminder of home, and the one person she could count on to listen rather than to speak.

Lost in thought, it took the roar of the crowd for Severus to realize the match had finally been won. Rose had finally caught the Snitch after a death-defying spiral dive that would no doubt be the topic of conversation for days to come. Blinking, he searched for Black. The outgoing wizard was already on the soggy pitch, chatting amicably with Flitwick, McGonagall and Lupin. Resignedly, he went to join them.

"That was simply marvelous flying, don't you agree, Severus?"

"Indeed it was," he agreed congenially to the Charms professor. He couldn't help but notice the look of relief shared by the three Gryffindors.

Perhaps he had been a bit curt when Black had asked him about Lily, but he wasn't going to apologize for his reaction. Instead, he watched as the students left en masse to return to the castle, the Gryffindors shouting "_Potter, Potter_," as they did so. He would have a talk to Rose about the dangers of fame going to her head, although he vowed it would be nothing like the barbed jibes he had made towards her during her first and second years.

"By the sound of things, I should make an appearance in the Common Room sooner rather than later. Who knows what they'll get up to once Rose actually appears." The usually stern McGonagall was unusually chipper, with good reason. Gryffindor had beaten Ravenclaw by enough points to win the House Cup.

"I should go as well," Filius quickly added. "Tell Rose well done for me and no hard feelings, would you, Severus? Students in my House are rational enough to appreciate such extraordinary talent, even if it is on the opposing team."

"I shall," he promised as he squinted in the direction of the locker rooms for any sign of her appearance. There were still too many students returning to the castle to see that far, and he resigned himself for a long wait.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Black motion for the Defense instructor to leave as well. Before the wolf could comply, Severus called out. "Don't forget to take your potion, Lupin. A marathon Quidditch match is enough excitement for one day."

The pale wizard nodded tiredly before he, too, returned to the castle. After a few minutes, Severus and Sirius stood alone on the pitch. As soon as Remus was out of earshot, though, Black grew edgy, agitatedly pacing back and forth. After a while, he stopped abruptly only inches away from Snape's face.

"How can they be gone? James should be here waiting for Rose, not me. I can picture him, puffed up with pride, talking about his daughter to anyone who will listen. And, Lily should be standing next to him, smiling and rolling her eyes, reminding him that Quidditch is just a game. It's as though everyone has forgotten them but me. I lost ten years of my life in Azkaban, ten years that seemed to be more of a nightmare than reality. Sometimes, I wake up and I don't know if I'm dreaming this, too. Maybe I'm still in Azkaban and I've finally gone insane."

His admission must have sapped the rest of his energy for he sat heavily on the ground, his head in his hands. Severus gazed down on the distressed man, a disdainful sneer marring his features. Only, the sneer wasn't directed towards Black, but himself.

Yet again, he understood the Marauder's pain only too well. How many times had he woken from a contented dream with his fantasy of Lily only to question his sanity when he remembered she was gone? He had loved her, even if she had not returned his affection. How had he let that love become so twisted that he had betrayed her to the Dark Lord?

His fantasy of Lily—that's all it had ever been, a fantasy. He had mistaken kindness for affection, friendship for love. And, in the end, he had lost even those. For years, he had put Lily Evans on a pedestal, refusing to see her faults. He had dismissed her quick temper as high-spiritedness, her tendency to hold a grudge as upholding high principles. In a world without Voldemort, perhaps they could have reconciled and remained what they had been all along-friends. Unfortunately, he would never know.

Black, however, was correct. By refusing to speak of her, he risked letting her be forgotten. For all her faults, Lily didn't deserve that. She had been a good friend when he had desperately needed one growing up on Spinner's End.

"Lily and I used to go the Owlery during Quidditch matches."

Taken aback, Sirius stared at him for a long while before responding. "The Owlery. I don't think James ever considered that. Hell, Snape, you must have had it bad to let her drag you there."

Incredibly, that observation provoked nothing stronger than wistful nostalgia. "You have no idea Black, absolutely no idea."

Before the Marauder could mistake the momentary camaraderie for actual friendship, Severus noticed that the Gryffindor team had finally emerged from the locker rooms to carefully make their way through the muddy field. Not waiting for Black to follow, he began to walk towards them. Squinting, he tried to make out Rose's shape, but it soon became apparent that she wasn't with her teammates. As soon as he was within shouting distance, he demanded an explanation from Fred and George, who were surprised to see him.

Fred began. "Hermione ran into the locker room a few minutes after the game. She told Rose—"

George seamlessly continued. "You wanted to see her, Professor."

Black, who had heard the exchange, immediately contradicted their tale. "I saw Hermione Granger walking towards the castle with your brother Ron, boys. It couldn't have been her."

"Polyjuice," Snape surmised as he fought to control his growing panic. "Whoever took her used Polyjuice Potion."

A dangerous glint appeared in Black's eyes as he spat out one name. "Peter."

Severus' heart skipped a beat. He had grown complacent, and now he feared Rose would pay the price. If the rat-faced traitor dared use the Cruciatus Curse on her again, there was no telling how it would affect her psyche. The possibility that Pettigrew might simply kill her he refused to contemplate. Digging into his pocket, Severus pulled out the Marauder's Map and thrust it into Sirius' hand.

"Find her."

Activating the map, Black passed his wand over the parchment to search for Rose's name. He made the same motion again—and again. Anguished, his expression told Severus all he needed to know. Rose did not appear on the map at all.


	36. The Charmed Bracelet

_Rose did not appear on the map at all._

Black stood on the edge of the soggy pitch, the Marauder's map hanging from his slack hands. His eyes were not wild with vengeance, but dull and lifeless. No matter how many times Severus called his name, he did not respond. For the moment, it seemed the former prisoner had retreated into his own reality.

Snape wished he had the same luxury. Instead, a dozen Gryffindors looked to him for direction. Brutally, he tamped down his growing fear and anxiety. If he had any hope of saving Rose, he could not let his emotions get in the way of his reason. His commands, therefore, were sharp and to the point.

"Mr. Wood, contact the Headmaster and inform him that Miss Potter has been taken. Miss Bell, Miss Johnson, Miss Spinnet, inform the other Heads of House. The rest of you, go back to Gryffindor Tower and stay there."

As the Weasley twins started towards the castle along with the rest, he quickly amended, "Fred, check and make sure that Miss Granger did indeed return with your brother. George, stay with Black and keep searching that map."

Digging his cane into the muddy ground, he half-ran towards the castle, outpacing some of the students. Before he could get too far, however, George called out.

"Where are you going, Professor?"

Not breaking his stride, he shouted over his shoulder. "To find Rose!"

* * *

><p>Snape took the stairs to the dungeon two at a time, ignoring the puzzled expressions of Filch and Hagrid. They would know what had happened soon enough. He ignored his Slytherins as well. Several small groups of third years and above stood in the hallways, whispering and shooting him peculiar looks. He had no time to wonder what mischief they were planning.<p>

Entering his bedroom, he found the tiny Golden Snitch in the drawer to his bedside table. Its wings beat rapidly when he touched the neglected charm, and he was forced to cup his hands over the keepsake to keep it from flying away. Potter had given the enchanted charm to Lily at some point during their courtship. Severus had removed it before giving Rose her mother's jewelry, but had kept it out of a lingering sense of guilt. He was very glad now that he had. If he performed the spell correctly, the tiny Snitch would lead him directly to the bracelet and thus to Rose.

The enchantment was a simple housekeeping spell intended to reunite broken pieces of a whole. The incantation and wand motion required little effort; the more tedious task was securing the miniature Snitch to a piece of string. Once it was firmly attached, he held the end of the string, and felt the reassuring pull of the golden charm as it struggled to reunite with the bracelet.

With renewed hope, he followed the Snitch into the hallway. Concentrating solely on finding Rose, he ran straight into Lloyd Harper, a second year Slytherin.

"Out of my way, Mr. Harper."

"Professor! Flint and Malfoy are killing each other!"

That got his attention, though he gritted his teeth at the delay. "Where?"

"In the Common Room. Malfoy tackled Flint as soon as he saw him. Got in a few good punches before Flint threw him against the mantel. They're both throwing curses that are taking out chunks of the wall. If you don't put an end to it soon, someone's going to get hurt."

Gripping the charm tightly in his hand, he stalked towards the Slytherin Common Room, ready to put both boys under the Imperius Curse if that's what it took to continue his search for Rose.

Entering, Severus paused at the threshold, stunned at the level of destruction the two students had wreaked. Marble and stone littered the floor, and there were indeed large chunks missing from the walls. Several green leather chairs had been ripped apart, and all of the glass lampshades had been shattered into tiny shards.

The two protagonists in the duel were still hurling curses at one another, heedless of the sudden appearance of their Head of House. Tellingly, not a single Slytherin stood as witness as a candelabra near the fireplace exploded into lethal shrapnel. Ducking, Severus opened his mouth to yell for them to stop when he heard Marcus Flint's incantation.

"_Sectumsempra!_"

As Draco dove out of the line of fire, Snape raised his wand. "_Stupefy_!"

Flint went down with an audible thud. Warily, Severus kicked him in the stomach, but the stunned wizard didn't move. Crossing the room, he yanked Draco Malfoy by his shirt collar to the only surviving chair.

"Talk quickly. Rose Potter is missing, and time is of the essence."

"I know," the bloodied and bruised boy gasped as he regained his breath. "Why do you think I was fighting Flint? By the time I discovered that Pansy had made Polyjuice Potion, I was too late. I knew if he got to Rose, he'd kill her. At least with Pansy, she'll have a fighting chance."

His worldview shifted on its axis, and suddenly everything made horrible sense. Marcus Flint had been their attacker in the Forbidden Forest, not Peter Pettigrew. Draco had all but admitted he had known his attacker when he had vowed to make him pay, though he had been very careful to say that he had not seen the perpetrator's face. Moreover, the troubled teen had told him everything he needed to know was under his nose. How could he have been so dense? Even the crude cartoons Pansy Parkinson had drawn of herself and Draco could be seen in a new, more sinister light. The girl was obviously obsessed with the Malfoy heir. When Draco had apologized to Rose earlier in the year, Pansy must have seen Rose as a rival.

"They're not on the grounds. Do you know where she might have taken her?"

"No, I just knew I couldn't let Flint meet up with them, or Rose would die. When Father visited me in the Hospital Wing, he warned me not to interfere with his plans again."

Lucius, he should have known. It would be just like the scheming Death Eater to use a proxy instead of doing the deed himself. While that explained how Marcus Flint had come to know the Cutting Curse, it did not help him find Rose.

"Find Professor McGonagall and explain how Mr. Flint and Miss Parkinson are involved in Rose's disappearance." Glancing at the prone figure on the floor, he swiftly added, "But confiscate his wand and tie him up first. He has much to answer for."

Draco tugged desperately on his sleeve. "Let me help you, Professor. Pansy might listen to me, and I don't think I could forgive myself if anything happened to Rose."

Severus glowered at distraught boy with no sympathy in his coal black eyes. "You should have confided in me from the beginning. Now, you'll just have to hope Rose hasn't been killed because of your warped sense of loyalty to your own House."

Angry tears poured down Draco's swollen face. "I couldn't tell you, Professor! If I had, he would have taken it out on Mum!"

Narcissa. Snape's vision blackened at the thought of what that cold-hearted bastard might do to her in retribution. He would kill Lucius Malfoy with his bare hands if the sadist so much as touched her. Bitterly, though, he shoved those feelings aside. There was nothing he could do for her while Rose was still in danger.

"Hide Flint in your dormitory. Make sure he can't escape. Then, knock five times on the door to my private quarters and say the word Lily. When the door opens, use the floo powder above the fireplace to reach your mother. You are both to wait in my rooms until I come for you. Is that understood?"

"What if Father is there?"

"If you can't convince him to let your mother go with your Slytherin cunning, you're going to have to use some of that bravery I have seen you display over the course of this year. But, don't try to engage him in a duel. You'll only lose. And, go straight to Professor McGonagall's office rather than my rooms. She will do her duty and grant you both sanctuary."

He hated placing such a heavy burden on a child, but Draco knew better than most the gravity of the situation. Still, Snape prayed that the elder Malfoy was not at the manor.

Severus watched the boy stiffen his resolve. With a violent flick of his wand, Draco conjured a set of ropes to tie up the unconscious Marcus Flint. A sudden sense of dread and guilt washed over the Potions Master. Time was ticking by, time neither one of them could afford to lose.

"Draco, I must find Rose."

"I know, Professor. Mum would want you to go. Ever since Helena told her about Marcus and Pansy, she's been beside herself with worry. She wanted to tell you, but Father threatened me to ensure her silence."

His hatred of Lucius Malfoy rose another notch. Gravely, he wished Draco good luck, and then took out the charm from his pocket to follow it up the stairs. His chest ached with conflicting anxieties. He swore to take vengeance upon his fellow Death Eater even as his vivid imagination supplied all sorts of horrors that Pansy might have inflicted upon Rose due to his delay.

* * *

><p>As the miniature Snitch led Snape out of the castle, he noted the deep purple and pinks of the setting sun. He had delayed far too long, no matter how significant the reason. If Rose had been injured, he would never forgive himself. Rigorously, he quickened his pace only to be assaulted by questions on all sides as the charm led him in a southeasterly direction.<p>

"Snape! Where have you been? Sirius said you returned to the castle almost an hour ago. The Headmaster feared you'd been taken as well. He's called in the Aurors. They'll be here soon."

Severus disdainfully glared at Remus Lupin. He would have pushed past the Defense instructor without speaking, but the ragged wizard was flanked by Hermione Granger, Fred and Ronald Weasley, a grim-faced Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick .

"If anyone of you had enough common sense to check the map, it would have been apparent that I have been in the dungeons this entire time. Not only have I spelled this charm to lead me to Rose, I have also ascertained that it was Pansy Parkinson who used Polyjuice to masquerade as Miss Granger. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than passively wait for the Aurors while Rose is still missing."

McGonagall and Flitwick demanded further explanation while Lupin and the Weasley boys begged to accompany him. Miss Granger flushed at his rebuke. However, she bit her lip and offered the first rational piece of advice he had heard that evening.

"Pansy isn't old enough to know how to apparate. If she's off the grounds, she's probably holding Rose somewhere in Hogsmeade."

"We'll start the search immediately," Minerva asserted, already ordering Fred and Ron to alert the Headmaster.

Taking advantage of the momentary commotion, Severus continued to follow the Snitch.

"I'm coming with you."

"So am I."

He nodded curtly to Lupin only because he didn't want to waste any more time. When he opened his mouth to refuse Miss Granger's assistance, however, she wouldn't hear his protest.

"You need me, Professor. You don't know what state Rose will be in when you find her." In an urgent undertone she added, "I've watched her this year. Something horrible happened to her, although she pretends it didn't. If she's really upset, she might not let you or Professor Lupin touch her. Let me help."

On any other day, he might have marveled at the young witch's insight, but her remark only increased his apprehension. He had to find Rose.

"Agreed, but stay behind us. I cannot guarantee that Miss Parkinson is acting alone."

Ignoring his two companions, Severus resumed his quest. The tiny Golden Snitch continued to lead them towards Hogsmeade. Severus felt his stomach untwist with each step. Rose could handle Pansy Parkinson. She was going to be fine.

And then, in the middle of the Hogwarts grounds, the charm broke free of the string to dive downwards into the grass.

"_Lumos_."

Snape bent down to search for the miniature Snitch in the rapidly fading light. He soon found it attached to Rose's charm bracelet. Picking up the chain, he mechanically examined the clasp. It been ripped apart, whether by Rose's anxious tugging or something else entirely he could not determine. Clutching it in his hand, he scanned the area for any other sign of his ward, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Severus, the Whomping Willow is frozen."

Cautiously, he approached the dangerous tree, finding it exactly as Lupin had said. It had to be more than a coincidence. Conjuring his Patronus, he directed it to inform Albus that he and Lupin would be pursuing Rose into the Shrieking Shack. As soon his doe disappeared, he looked to Hermione.

"Miss Granger, stay here. Others should be arriving shortly. If I have need of you, I will send for you as soon as Rose is safe, but in such a confined space, you would only get in the way."

The young witch bit her lip, and Severus feared she would protest the restrictions he had placed upon her. Solemnly, he handed her the broken chain. "Rose will want this back."

Gulping, she looked up into his eyes, and he could see she understood.

"I'll hold it until you can return it to her, Professor. I'm sure it will mean more coming from you."

"Stay safe, Hermione."

He crawled through the narrow opening at the base of the tree before Miss Granger could react to his use of her first name. Landing flat on his arse on the soft earth, he listened intently for any evidence that the dirt tunnel was occupied, but heard nothing. Lupin soon followed, dropping more gracefully onto the floor. Wordlessly, he offered Severus his hand, which the Potions Master reluctantly accepted.

Limping down the long, dark tunnel, Snape ignored the sudden spasm in his left leg. His sturdy cane dug into the dank earth as he did his best to keep up with his colleague's hurried strides. Annoyingly, the wolf would not keep quiet, whispering a running commentary as they crossed the invisible boundary between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade.

"Miss Parkinson must have learned of the tunnel from Draco Malfoy. When the Board of Governor's discovered that Sirius had breached the castle on two occasions, they insisted on an accounting of every way an intruder could possibly enter or exit the grounds. Dumbledore was forced to include the Shrieking Shack in the list, and the reason it was put there. He personally guaranteed my good conduct so I could finish out the year, but the Board refused to renew my contract. I'm surprised his son hasn't outed me as a werewolf already."

He didn't bother correcting the wizard. Marcus Flint's involvement would become known soon enough. Instead, he focused on the dim light coming from the end of the tunnel. They were very close to the entrance to the Shrieking Shack; impatiently, he gestured for Lupin to stop talking.

Cautiously, he pushed the door to the derelict building open with his cane. He heard a hoarse shout of "_Confrigo_," and barely had time to dive out of the way before the door exploded into chunks of rotting wood.

"Try that again, Flint, and I'll aim it at you!"

Rose! She was alive and well enough to perform the spell he had taught her only two weeks before, even if her voice was terribly raspy. Gripping the doorjamb with all his might, he slowly pulled himself upright, though he prudently stayed out of the line of fire. Euphoric, he called out to her.

"Miss Potter! I am going to consult Healer Wellby about your appalling eyesight as soon as we get home! There is no excuse for mistaking me for Marcus Flint!"

"Professor! I knew you'd come! Be careful. Pansy and I made a bit of a mess."

A mess was a gross understatement. Several beams supporting the upper floor had collapsed, causing part of the ceiling near the back wall to cave in. Both girls were trapped under the rubble, although Rose had somehow managed to free her wand.

Merlin, Snape, what spells have you been teaching Rose?"

Picking his way through the debris to reach to his ward, he snarled at the Marauder. "Shut it and do something useful for a change, Lupin. See if Parkinson requires medical attention."

Standing in front of Rose, he tried to hide his dismay. She was covered in dirt and dust and buried from her chest down by large pieces of plaster and wood. Her right eye was swollen shut and her glasses were broken. A thin trail of blood flowed from her scalp down her neck to disappear into the rubble. And yet, she grinned happily as he sat down beside her.

"Hello, Professor. Really sorry about the spell, but Pansy couldn't help bragging a bit before I managed to get free. I thought I'd best go on the offensive."

Putting his hand against her cheek, he swallowed a lump in his throat. Her skin was clammy and cold.

"We can discuss Miss Parkinson's scheme later. I need you to tell me where you hurt the most."

She dismissed his concern with a wave of her free hand, although she couldn't help but grimace as she took a deep breath.

"It's alright. I've had worse."

Sadly, he expected she had.

"Rose."

Looking up at the hole in the ceiling, she grudgingly admitted, "I might have broken a rib."

Severus eyed an extremely large piece of support beam that covered the lower half of her body. Ominously, it also seemed to be holding up the remains of the first floor. With as much calm as he could muster, he asked, "Can you feel your extremities?"

Experimentally wiggling her feet and trapped left hand, she let out a sharp gasp. "Yeah, but something's definitely wrong with my arm."

Pasting a wry grin on his face, he did his best to bolster her spirits. "So, no worse than a typical Quidditch match, then."

"Better than some, actually. At least I still have my bones."

"Indeed."

Briskly, he performed a charm to warm Rose's chilled body. Then, he handed her the pain potion he always carried with him.

"I will free you in a moment. Don't get the ridiculous idea to try and do it yourself."

"No worries there, Professor. I'll just sit here and wait."

If she hadn't been smirking at her own cleverness, he would have apologized, for many things. Instead, he hurried over to the other end of the room where Lupin assisted her attacker.

Pansy Parkinson had a split lip and three missing teeth. Other than that, she seemed to have come out of the ordeal relatively unscathed. Lupin had already extricated her from the rubble and had put her in a full body bind. Only the hatred in her eyes gave away her conscious state.

Fleetingly, he sneered at her in disgust, and then he did his best to ignore her.

"Leave her for now. I will need your assistance to free Rose. She's pinned under a beam that is bracing the rest of the ceiling. If we aren't careful, the entire first floor is going to come crashing down on top of her."

"Is she alright?"

Severus bit back a sarcastic retort as he noted Lupin's drawn features. He tried to remind himself that he wasn't the only one who cared for Rose.

"She will be better once we free her and Poppy can tend to her injuries."

Together, they began to carefully levitate the wreckage of the Shrieking Shack that covered Rose, though they took care not to do anything that might shift the large beam that trapped her. For the first few minutes, she cheerfully offered advice, but eventually she fell silent as her breathing grew more labored.

"Looks like you could use another wand."

Glancing up to see Sirius Black standing behind him, Snape felt a profound sense of relief. Lupin gave his fellow Marauder a tired smile. Even Rose perked up.

"Sirius! Did you see me play? The Firebolt's brilliant. It's like riding a rocket!"

Black's eyes swept from Rose to the wooden beam that still trapped her, following it to the sagging ceiling above. His voice cracked, but he managed to fool his goddaughter with false cheer.

"You were incredible, Rosie-posy. James would have been proud."

Snape caught the panicked look of desperation that had returned to his eyes, however, and quickly took charge.

"Rose, in just a minute, Sirius is going to pull you out while I hold up the ceiling and Lupin lifts the beam. He is going to take you through the tunnel and back to Hogwarts."

"But what about you?" she demanded anxiously before he could finish.

"I will meet you in the Hospital Wing after I see to Miss Parkinson and Mr. Flint."

_And Draco and Narcissa_, he added silently. If all had gone well, they should be waiting in his chambers. If not . . . he couldn't think of that at the moment.

"Okay, Professor. But, just so you'll know, I refuse to take a Sleeping Draught until I see you."

"Fair enough."

Hurriedly, he consulted the other two wizards on the best approach to free Rose. They needed to hurry. His growing fatigue would soon impact his ability to cast spells. His leg could barely hold his weight and his wand hand trembled. Lupin looked no better. In fact, his shaking had gotten worse and sweat beaded on his forehead.

"On the count of three. One. Two. Three."

Black gripped Rose under the arms as Severus performed the spell to stabilize the ceiling. Though the concentration required to maintain such a spell was grueling, his knowledge that Rose would soon be free gave him an added boost of energy. He anxiously watched Lupin levitate the beam six inches before the wizard abruptly dropped his wand to frantically clutch his sides.

"Aaaaaah!

Rose's scream echoed off the walls as Remus Lupin began his transformation into a vicious, snarling beast.

It was Snape's worst nightmare come to horrible life. Rose was still trapped, and he had no means to save her. Since the beam had shifted position, his spell was the only thing keeping the remnants of the first floor from crashing onto their heads.

"Black! What the hell are you waiting for? Levitate the beam and get her out of here!"

But Black didn't listen. He sprang up, transforming in mid-air into a very familiar shape. Only this time, Grim didn't happily wag his tail, but growled and snarled and launched himself against the werewolf in an apparent attempt to rip out the monster's throat.

For a moment, Snape thought himself back in Surrey, cradling Rose's body near the darkened playground. The sounds, the dim light, the smell of blood all served as a visceral reminder of his own attack by a gigantic, snarling, ferocious hound. And, why wouldn't it? In that terrifying instant, he finally understood they had to be one in the same.

"Professor!"

Rose's ragged shout brought him out of his shocked stupor just in time for him to see the werewolf fling Grim across the room. The mutt let out a yelp as he fell onto the floor. With a brief, remorseful look at Severus, he attacked yet again. This time, when the werewolf threw him off, he did not get back up. Snape had no time to contemplate his emotions as the mutt lay unmoving on the floor. The werewolf had turned his attention to Rose.

"_Mobilicorpus_!"

Pansy Parkinson shot through the air to land on Snape's left side. Clasping her frozen fingers, he grabbed Rose's injured arm. Urgently, he thought of nothing but their escape. The three vanished with a loud crack as the rest of the ceiling finally gave way.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note<em> – Hi! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. A quick note about the Marauder's Map. Since the Shrieking Shack is definitely in Hogsmeade, I didn't include it on a map that is described as a map of Hogwarts. Hope that doesn't feel like too much of a cheat. And, sorry for Lupin's brief info dump in the tunnel. At that moment, Severus could care less how Pansy discovered the tunnel underneath the Whomping Willow, but I was afraid readers would not be so patient.

Some people have asked me if Sirius would show any remorse or confess to Snape that it was he who had attacked him in Surrey. As you can see from this chapter, he never did confess before Snape figured it out. However, I think he has been showing signs of remorse throughout the year. Black hated Snape as much as Snape hated Black, but Sirius has done nothing but help Severus since that night, and has tried in his own immature way to befriend him. I apologize that I haven't conveyed his motivations and emotional state more clearly in the story. It's difficult when the point of view is Snape's because he's already affected by their past. As for the aftermath of Severus' realization, well, you'll just have to continue reading to find out.

If you're still reading this rather lengthy author's note, I'd love to have some feedback about the chapter and the story overall. Hermione still has a time tuner, and I haven't quite decided whether or not to utilize it. Part of me says enough, and the other part is itching to write some over the top melodrama. It's a dilemma. Thanks as always to everyone who has reviewed this story. I love the comments. And, thanks to everyone who is following the story and has put it on alert and favorites. I know the updates have been spotty this summer and I appreciate your loyalty!


	37. A Chance to Live

Groaning, Snape glanced to both sides, evaluating the success of his desperate Double Side-Along Apparition. On his left, Pansy Parkinson was intact, though still immobilized. On his right, Rose cradled her arm as she struggled to sit. Miraculously, none of them had been splinched.

Kneeling, he gently pushed her back to the floor. "Just rest. We're safe. Madame Pomfrey will be tending to you very soon."

Staring at the exposed beams in the dingy ceiling, she winced, biting back a cry of pain. "I can't move my feet."

Severus had to swallow a lump in his throat before he could look down at her legs. From her shins down, they were a bloody, mangled mess.

"Some Skele-Gro and Skin Renew will sort that. How is your chest?"

"Fine."

"Rose," he admonished quietly. He saw how much it pained her to take a deep breath.

"Had pneumonia once at the Dursleys. Feels about the same."

"Nothing Poppy can't sort, then."

"Poppy?"

"That's Madame Pomfrey to you."

As the trembling in his leg became too great to ignore, he sat down beside her, resting his back against the life-sized portrait of Ariana Dumbledore. The Hogs Head was empty and dark, and he cursed Aberforth's habit of disappearing. He had hoped that Albus' brother could have put the past behind him long enough to get some help. Now, he would have to send his Patronus, an iffy prospect in his exhausted state.

"Do you think Sirius got away?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't. Instead, he gently wiped away the tears which streamed down her cheeks.

"You should be in the Hospital Wing."

"I should be dead. If he hadn't attacked Professor Lupin . . . ."

A harsh bout of coughing overtook her before she could complete the thought. Severus could only watch helplessly as she cringed with each pained breath. Her injuries must be serious indeed if the potion he had given her no longer had an effect.

"He should have Apparated out with you immediately. You need to be under Madame Pomfrey's care."

"He was trying to save you, too," she wheezed angrily, which only brought on another fit of agonized coughing.

He couldn't face that fact. Not yet, maybe not ever. Black had crippled him. In a twisted way, he could come to terms with that. He expected no less from the Marauder who had tried to kill him once before. It was the subsequent actions of the man which left him utterly confused.

Instead, he put every ounce of energy he had left into casting his Patronus. It was little more than a wispy image, but it would have to do.

"Find the Headmaster. Tell him where we are. He should know of the tunnel."

He watched in awe as his Patronus solidified into a glowing, solid doe. Gently, the creature dipped its head to press its nose against Rose's cheek. The battered girl's eyes closed and her breathing evened. Asleep, a hint of a smile softened the bruises which marred her face. Backing away, the glowing creature turned its gaze upon Severus. It was only then that he could see the brilliance of its green eyes. Hardly daring to breathe, he reached out to touch her.

"Lily."

As soon as his hand came in contact with her soft fur, the doe disappeared. In its place, a blinding beacon of light blazed in the center of the room to burst through the cracks in the shutters. Enveloped in a dazzling brilliance, the Hogs Head resembled nothing more than a lighthouse beacon before it slowly faded into darkness once again.

Severus tenderly stroked Rose's cheek, for once not questioning the miracle which had occurred. The child still smiled in her sleep, and he could only hope that she dreamt of her mother. Less than ten minutes later, Dumbledore pushed against the portrait. Scrambling out of the way, he noted with relief that the Headmaster had thought to bring reinforcements.

Rising shakily to his feet, Severus entrusted Rose to Poppy's care before pointing dismissively to the still immobilized Pansy Parkinson.

"I think you will find, Headmaster, that a few drops of Veritiserum in Miss Parkinson's mouth would prove to be very illuminating. It seems that Lucius used petty, teenaged jealousy as a catalyst for his own, more sinister plot."

Albus peered at the immobilized Slytherin through his half-moon spectacles, an inscrutable expression on his face.

"As fascinating as that prospect sounds, Severus, I'm afraid we have a more pressing issue to contend with. Remus is loose on the grounds, and he must not be allowed to injure another student."

"Another student, Headmaster?" Severus had thought the night couldn't get any worse. He had obviously been mistaken.

"Miss Granger is recovering in the Hospital Wing as we speak."

His hand shook as he leaned against the wall to endure the weight of such terrible news.

"How badly was she bitten?"

Dumbledore gazed sadly at Rose, seemingly lost in thought. It took a moment for the import of Snape's question to register.

"Bitten? My apologies, Severus, for leading you to believe the worst. The child wasn't bitten. By her own account, Sirius in his Animagus form protected her from Remus' attack. However, during their struggles, the two crashed into the knot which controls the Whomping Willow. I'm afraid the tree did not take kindly to the intruders. Miss Granger suffered internal injuries, but she will survive."

"And Black?"

"Hagrid spotted him pursuing Remus into the Forbidden Forest. Several Aurors were sent to follow the trail of blood, but Shacklebolt has decided to recall them until the morning."

"Have all students been accounted for?"

The question had a profound impact on the Headmaster. His shoulders stooped; the worry lines on his face became more pronounced, and his usually sparkling blue eyes grew dull.

"Marcus Flint is missing. No one will admit to seeing him after the Quidditch Match. I fear if we don't find him soon, the Board of Governors will have no choice but to relieve me of my duties."

The sudden urge to rush to his quarters was difficult to suppress. Draco had made it back from Malfoy manor, though he obviously hadn't obeyed his order to stay put. Had the boy been successful? Or had Lucius forced him to return alone?

"You should not have guaranteed Lupin's good conduct."

"Yes, Severus. In retrospect, I fear such loyalty was ill-advised." He answered wearily, once again showing his age.

Snape felt sympathy for his mentor. He had made the wrong choice, and now his life's work hung in the balance. His sympathy was not powerful enough to lead him to confess the truth, however. Marcus Flint was his only bargaining chip he had with the abusive Lucius Malfoy, and he wasn't about to hand him over to Albus just yet.

"I shall begin the search immediately."

Dumbledore briefly rested his hand on Severus' shoulder. "Thank you, my boy. I know if anyone can find Mr. Flint, it is you. I can only hope it isn't already too late."

Snape feared it was too late the minute Albus had hired a werewolf to teach children but he kept that thought to himself.

* * *

><p>Limping into his quarters, Severus quietly whispered, "<em>Homenum revelio<em>." A faint blue light glowed underneath the door to his bedroom. His breath caught in his throat as he cautiously walked forward. Although he prayed to find Narcissa, he couldn't be sure that Lucius wasn't lying in wait instead.

There was only one way to find out. Gathering his courage, he pushed open the door.

She lay curled on her side in his bed, her body covered by a worn blue blanket that Flora Evans had given him one extremely cold winter. Asleep, the strain of living with Lucius Malfoy was all too plain to see. While Narcissa had always been thin, her cheeks were pinched and gaunt. Dark circles ringed her eyes, and her neck was spotted with aging, yellow bruises.

He sat gingerly beside her, fearful that like delicate porcelain, she might somehow break. Acting purely on instinct, he tenderly stroked her cheek.

She woke with a start, flinching away before she had even opened her eyes. As soon as she saw him, however, her tense muscles relaxed and she threw her arms around him.

"Severus. Thank Merlin."

She didn't collapse and sob in his arms as he had feared, but she did cling to him as if her life depended upon it. For a moment, he gripped her just as tightly. Then, he reluctantly pulled back to take her hands in his. Tracing the intricate pattern of red blisters that encircled her wrists, he bit back bile.

"I never thought he'd use such a Dark artifact on you. How were you able to come to Hogwarts without him?"

She stared at his long, slender fingers as he gently touched her damaged skin. "I was scheduled to attend a charity luncheon for St. Mungo's the first time. Lucius removed them before he left. I was able to slip out and visit you during dessert and return before anyone thought to ask where I had gone. With Helena, he wanted me to warn her against telling her parents. That poor girl. I'm so glad Ellen took my advice and transferred her to Beauxbatons. At least she's safe now, unlike Rose."

Her bottom lip quivered, and she couldn't go on. Clenching her teeth, she fought her tears until her pent-up emotions finally escaped in a harsh, strangled moan. He rubbed her back as she cried against him, his own tears stemmed only by the force of his will.

"Rose is safe. She is in the Hospital Wing, but she is going to be fine, Narcissa. Your son most likely saved her life by confronting Marcus Flint. You can speak to her later, if you would like. For now, tell me where I can find Lucius."

"Severus, you can't! This is exactly what he wants. He'll kill you."

Recklessly, he didn't care. All he could see were the marks on Narcissa's too thin wrists.

"Narcissa, you must know the significance of those blisters. He's had you in those restraints long enough to claim you as chattel. You'll die if you don't go back to him. The only way to release you from that spell is to destroy the manacles."

Roughly, she pulled her hands free, hiding them under the blanket. "And, I'll die if something happens to you because of me! This is my fault. I shouldn't have married Lucius in the first place. I knew he had a cruel streak. I won't have you paying for my mistakes. Don't you see, Severus? He let me come here. He's hoping to goad you into confronting him. He's heard about Lupin and wants to rid himself of you and Dumbledore in one go. Rose will be defenseless if you go charging off like some hero in a fairytale!"

"How long?"

Stubbornly, she turned her head towards the wall. "It doesn't matter. I won't go back, and I won't allow you to throw your life away. Once I'm gone, Lucius won't be able to use me against Draco. He can run away. I have some money hidden in a vault in Gringotts. It's not much, but it should be enough for him to finish school."

"Narcissa, please!"

She turned back briefly at the anguish in his voice. Ruthlessly, Severus' eyes bored into hers. He saw far more than he could stomach, but released her the moment he found what he was looking for. Twelve hours—he only had twelve hours to confront that bastard Malfoy and force him to relinquish the perverted hold he had on his wife.

Her eyes widened in horror as she understood what he had done. "Severus, you can't. Rose needs you. Even Lucius acknowledges how important you are to her. She deserves the chance to live."

A single tear slipped down his cheek. For once he didn't try to hide his torment.

"I know. If I could change places—"

Throwing her arms around his neck, she pulled him down for a kiss. As her mouth met his, Severus could taste the salt of her tears, but it was the bittersweet promise of her supple lips that strengthened his resolve.

Eventually, she pulled back, and he was left with a lingering sense of something unfinished. A tremulous smile graced the corners of her mouth, and her crystal blue eyes held of spark of boldness he had not perceived since her school days.

"I've always wondered what it would be like to kiss you."

"And I have been a complete and utter fool."

Lightly, she pressed her finger to his lips. "I won't hear that from you, not now."

He choked back a sob. "There must be something I can do."

"Stay with me."

"Of course." This time, when he stroked her cheek, she leaned into his touch. "But certainly there must be something more I can do. Would you care to see Draco before the effects become more pronounced?"

Fresh tears welled in her eyes as she managed a small nod. It soon became apparent, however, that she could barely stand on her own. As he eased her back on the bed, a small sob escaped her throat.

"I don't want him to see me like this, Severus. Please, there must be something you can do, if only for a short while."

"An Invigoration Draught and Strengthening Solution in combination should boost your stamina for an hour or two. And, I can give you the appearance of health with some judiciously applied charms."

"So long as I uncork the vials."

In spite of the gravity of the situation, Severus smirked. "A Slytherin to the end, I see. Don't you trust me, Narcissa?"

She gave him knowing look. "I have never known you to accept defeat quite so easily, Severus. Or have I misread your intent?"

Abruptly, he sobered. "Forgive me. I had to make the attempt. The thought of losing you now is more than I can bear. I will bring them to you uncorked."

He returned less than a minute later. Sitting beside her on the bed, he solemnly handed her the two vials. Both were still sealed, though Narcissa spent several minutes inspecting the bottles. Once she was thoroughly satisfied that Severus had not tampered with the wax or the labels, she held them out to him.

"Which one first?"

He raised one eyebrow. "Still suspicious? It matters not which you drink first. You are welcome to pick."

Attempting to read the truth in his expression, she uncorked the Invigoration Draught, sniffed it, and then tipped it into her mouth. Swallowing the potion in one long gulp, she placed the empty vial on his bedside table.

"Thank you, Severus, I know how difficult it mus . . . ." Blinking, she struggled to fight the effects of the potion. "How?"

He held her as she slowly lost the battle to stay awake. "A simple switching spell once you had sniffed it. I am quite adept at wandless magic."

Just before she lost consciousness, she murmured one final protest. "You can't."

Severus pressed his lips against her forehead in a silent gesture of apology. Once her breathing had evened and her body relaxed, he tucked her carefully underneath the blanket. Tenderly, he smoothed her limp, tangled tresses.

"Forgive me, but you are wrong, Narcissa. Rose isn't the only one who deserves a chance to live. And Lucius threatens you both."

Taking the Strengthening Solution from her slack hands, he quickly swallowed it, followed by the actual Invigoration Draught. He had been correct. In combination, the two significantly increased his stamina. The weakness in his muscles had temporarily disappeared, and he didn't bother to take his cane as he strode out of his quarters. Lucius Malfoy would soon pay, for a multitude of sins.

* * *

><p>Disillusioned, Snape didn't waste time by heading to the Hospital Wing. Though he hoped that Rose would approve of his decision, he couldn't afford to linger over unnecessary explanations. Instead, he left the castle with a pocketful of potions taken from his own medicinal stores and headed straight for the Forbidden Forest.<p>

He needn't have bothered to conceal himself. The grounds were eerily quiet. Making his way carefully in the dark, he reassured a howling Fang before illuminating the woods near Hagrid's hut. It took him half an hour, but he finally found the trail of blood to which Dumbledore had referred. In the damp night air, it was still wet and shiny, and once he had found it, he had no problem following it deep into the Forbidden Forest.

After following the trail for some time, he heard scuttling in the trees above. Stopping abruptly, he held his breath until a spider the size of a Pekinese jumped from one tree to the next until Severus could no longer see it by the light of the full moon. Taking a deep breath, he moved on.

Hearing the plaintive and terrifying echoes of a howling wolf much later, Severus shuddered. He longed for a Muggle gun. Silver bullets did indeed have the capability of kill a werewolf, and worked much more quickly than any potion or spell. Though he might as well ask for a Time Tuner. Listening intently, he finally determined that Lupin hunted near the lake. Gathering his resolve, he continued to follow the splatters of fresh blood.

He found the mutt lying among the roots of an ancient, massive oak tree. His body was as broken as Rose's had been that fateful night, and Snape had to push that thought out of his mind as he stood threateningly over the wizard who had crippled him. Instead, he concentrated on every humiliation he had suffered because of his damned stutter, the necessity of that horrid cane and the weakness in his limbs. It was all too easy, then, to push every bit of malice he felt into his voice until his ultimatum sounded chillingly similar to an unholy oath.

"If you so much as wag your tail before I tell you to, mutt, I will leave you out here to die. Do you understand?"

The dog whined piteously in assent, and Severus knelt down to do what he had never considered in his cruelest nightmares. Spell by spell, potion by potion, he healed the wizard who had done his best to kill him—twice.

Finally, there was nothing left to give him but the Blood Replenishing Potion. Clenching his jaw, Severus gazed upon the weakened mutt. As his work had progressed, it had been all too easy to pretend that he healed his faithful dog Grim. Now, the real test of his character was about to begin.

"You have to drink the next potion as a human, Black. Before you change, let me make something perfectly clear. I will not tolerate the sound of your voice. Do not apologize. Do not attempt to explain. When I ask you a question, you are to nod or shake your head. If you cannot follow such a simple set of commands, then I will personally ensure you are sent back to Azkaban."

The mutt whined, but within a minute, Sirius Black lay on his side underneath the canopy of the sprawling oak tree.

"Drink this. Quickly. We don't have time to waste."

The frail wizard complied, grimacing at the taste, but making no sound as the potion worked its magic and completed the healing process. Severus knew the moment the potion had done its work, and was therefore infuriated when the wizard made no move to get up. Hopping to his feet, he towered over his foe.

"Stand the bloody hell up, Black! I told you we don't have time to waste. It took me almost two hours to track you down and an hour to piece you back together. She'll die if we don't hurry!"

The rangy wizard shot to his feet, all hint of apathy gone. An obvious question was reflected in his anxious gray eyes, although he honored Snape's conditions and didn't voice it.

Severus let out a snarl before biting out an explanation. "Rose is being cared for. She is safe for the moment. However, she will not—bloody fucking hell, I can't do this!"

Stepping in Black's personal space, he exploded with emotion. "I refuse to forgive you! You ruined my life! I'd be better off if you'd never seen that fucking photo of the Weasleys in the _Daily Prophet_! You saw me with her that night and did what you've always done—you judged me without a shred of proof! I very nearly didn't get her to Hogwarts because of you! We could have both died! But you couldn't be content with crippling me, could you? No, you had to humiliate me, too! You had to pose as that damn dog and just sit there wagging your tail while I poured out my soul to you! Well, let me tell you, Black, I don't care how many times you've saved my life, or how many times you've saved Rose's life, nothing, I repeat, nothing you can do or say will make up for what you did to me that night! Do you understand? **Nothing**!"

"I know."

Black's statement, while heartfelt, was like lighting the fuse to a bomb. Snape turned and blasted the stately oak into firewood in a dangerous outburst of fury. Then, he focused that rage again on Black, pressing his wand against his antagonist's chest. His eyes were dark and wild, and his appearance was as fearsome as any beast of the forest. Sirius, however, didn't react to Snape's threat. In fact, he stood with his hands held out to the side, the better to show he had not taken out his wand.

"I know, Severus. I've done my best to atone ever since that night, but you're right; I can't. You're wrong about one thing, though. Listening to you as Grim, I was the one who was shamed. I was such an arrogant prick in school, so certain I was right, and everyone else wrong. Hell, I even turned my back on Regulus when he needed me the most. So, send me back to Azkaban. Maybe that's the only place I really belong."

Snape whipped his wand away, his expression murderous. "I'm not turning you in, Black."

Surprise and hope warred on the wizard's face.

Severus squelched both quickly. "Don't believe for a minute I forgive you. After tonight, I never want to see you again. And, once I'm finished explaining a few things to Rose, she won't either."

"Snape, I—"

He continued as if Sirius hadn't spoken. "Loath as I am to admit it, I find myself needing your assistant tonight regarding a delicate family matter, yours to be precise."

Black crossed his arms, his expression suddenly guarded. "I'm listening."

"It's about your cousin."

"Andromeda?"

"Narcissa."

Black's grey eyes darkened as his hands straightened into fists and his teeth ground together. "Tell me what that fucking Death-Eater's done to her."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em> - Hi! To all those who were anxiously awaiting the fate of Remus and Sirius, I hope I didn't disappoint too badly. It's a Severus-centric story, so we won't get to see exactly what happened between the two Marauders, but I did write about some of the aftermath, at least between Sirius and Severus. Yes, there will be more to come once the next day dawns and the Aurors can safely hunt for Lupin. Until then, I hope you enjoy the twist the story has taken. And, no, Sirius isn't reading Snape's mind when he asks what Lucius has done to Narcissa. As an Order member, he naturally assumes that a Death-Eater would mistreat his spouse. In this case, it's all too true.

As always, I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to review. It's rewarding to know what people think, and I will admit it spurs me to write when I should be doing other things. (Yes, there are still boxes to unpack and not a single picture on the wall.) I do usually reply if you're signed in when you leave a comment. If not, I admit I have a bad habit of not searching for personal accounts, but I thank you nonetheless.

Finally, I'd like to thank everyone who has put this story on Alert or Favorites. I must admit the new story statistics are a little bit intimidating. Although sorting by number of reviews, etc. can be a great way to find a well-written story, I'm afraid some may get lost, especially those that revolve around OC's or take place in an AU. So, if you really enjoy someone's work (not necessarily mine) take the time to sign in and tell them so.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'll update as soon as I can.


	38. The Wizards Duel

Sirius Black paced back and forth in the dark forest as Severus tersely described the terrible enchantment Lucius Malfoy had placed on his wife.

"Lucius keeps his most dangerous contraband in two places, his desk and a vault underneath the drawing room floor. I will keep him occupied while you search. The Subjugation Manacles are extremely Dark. It will likely take Fiendfyre to destroy them."

As taut as a bowstring, Sirius snapped as soon as he heard the plan. "Have you gone completely mad? You expect to challenge Lucius Malfoy in his own home and come out unscathed? Why not involve the Aurors? This time, he's sure to be sent to Azkaban."

"Perhaps you do not know your cousin quite as well as I had thought. Narcissa would rather die than make her ordeal public."

Though Snape had spoken calmly enough, there was a dangerous undertone to his voice that even Sirius could not fail to appreciate. Recklessly, the Marauder didn't seem to care.

"I'd rather have her alive than dead with her pride intact! Besides, have you thought about what your death would do to Rose? Or do you just not care?"

"Your confidence in my abilities is inspiring, Black. Call the Aurors if you are too cowardly to assist me. By the time you convince them, I will have returned."

Decisively, Severus turned on his heel to march out of Hogwarts. Before he had taken ten steps, Sirius pushed in front of him.

"Damn it, Snape! Wait! I never said I wouldn't help you."

With a curt nod, Severus continued walking, Sirius at his side.

* * *

><p>Hiking down the narrow lane which led to Malfoy Manor, Severus stopped abruptly to point his wand at Black. Casting the Disillusionment Charm, he watched his nemesis all but disappear. Only his dim shadow in the bright moonlight remained.<p>

"We're almost to the gate. The drawing room is directly off the entrance hall. If I remember Bellatrix's boasts correctly, you need only twist the malachite snake on the bookshelf to release the secret door to the cellar below."

"And if the manacles aren't there?"

"His study is adjacent to their bedroom. Second floor, at the top of the stairs. I take it you know how to cast Fiendfyre?"

The irritation in the Disillusioned wizard's voice was apparent, even if his expression was not. "Of course I know how to cast Fiendfyre. My dear father forced me to master it the year before I left. It's practically a Black rite of passage."

"Then do not hesitate to destroy the manacles as soon as you find them. Narcissa's time grows short."

All too soon, they arrived at the entrance. Although it was well past midnight, the wrought iron gates were wide open as if Lucius expected guests. In silence, they walked down the driveway. The ancient yew hedges cast long, dark shadows on the dimly lit ground, and the former spy wished for the anonymity of the new moon. Even in the relative darkness, he felt very exposed.

An inhuman cry shattered the quiet, and Severus jumped in spite of himself. Damn peacocks. He had forgotten the Malfoys infatuation with the proud birds. Casting _Lumos_, he stepped onto the darkened front porch.

As soon as his foot touched the weathered wood, the lanterns flanking the door blazed bright. Before he could knock, the sturdy oak door creaked open in mute invitation. Taking a deep breath, he walked inside, giving Black ample time to follow before he quietly shut the door.

They didn't speak; it was simply too dangerous. Lucius was conspicuous by his absence, but flickering candles illuminated Snape's path. Hoping Black would find the manacles in the cellar, he followed the dim lights up the marble staircase. He had not stepped foot inside Malfoy manor since the Dark Lord's defeat, but as he followed the trail to the first floor, he knew exactly where it would take him. The Malfoy's spacious ballroom had always been a popular venue for dueling.

* * *

><p>The cool night breeze rustled the open draperies in the mirrored ballroom, giving it the illusion of activity. Moonlight spilled into the otherwise unlit room, but the Potions Master knew without a doubt that Lucius waited patiently nearby, much like a cobra readying itself to strike. With no little amount of trepidation, he stepped inside.<p>

He heard the unmistakable snap of fingers, and the room was immediately illuminated by ornate crystal chandeliers. Lucius, dressed in sharp black trousers and a crisp white shirt, stood facing the farthest window, his back haughtily turned towards Severus. He negligently held a large goblet filled with a deep red liquid in his right hand. His ebony cane rested against the windowsill, and Snape had the oddest desire to applaud his fellow Death-Eater for the image he had so artfully created. Silken blond hair hanging neatly down his back, he played the brooding aristocrat all too well.

"Claret, Lucius? This late at night? Shouldn't you be drinking absinthe by now? Or would you have me believe you've progressed to blood?"

Turning, Lucius gave him a thin, tight-lipped smile that did not reach his eyes. "Believe what you will, Severus. Frankly, I am astonished at your impudence. You have already made a cuckold of me; what more could you possibly want?"

Severus' hand began to shake as he wrestled with his growing rage. He would not allow the bastard to provoke him by claiming to be the victim. Black needed time to search. Sucking in a lungful of air through his teeth, he occluded his mind. The rage was ever present, but it was detached, waiting to be channeled at the opportune moment. Still, he had no intention of playing nice.

"Pissed enough to believe your own lies, Lucius? I am the one who is astonished. You used to hold your liquor better than that."

Cocking his head to the side, the elder Death-Eater studied him as if he were nothing more than an insect beneath his feet.

"So much wasted potential. The youngest Potions Master in the history of our nation, crippled by his own incompetence. I wish the Dark Lord were here to see how far you have fallen. He always did treat you more like a cherished pet than acolyte. I wonder what he would make of your betrayal?"

He deliberately misunderstood the reference. "My objection to your wife's abuse would hardly be considered a betrayal. In fact, were the Dark Lord here, you would never dare use such a vile artifact on a pureblood witch."

His black eyes glittering with malice, he mused thoughtfully. "Strange. I have never considered how fortuitous it was for you that the Lestranges were captured by the Ministry. I am quite certain Bellatrix would not have allowed you to treat her sister with such disrespect. Remind me again how the Aurors knew to find them?"

Lucius smashed the goblet against the floor. As the dark red wine seeped into the cracks in the wood, Severus had to stifle a smirk. He had finally found a way to rile the proud wizard.

"How dare you accuse me of disloyalty! You have taken the Potter girl under your wing! I've read Draco's letters! You are enthralled with her, just as you were with her mudblood mother! When the Dark Lord returns, what excuse can you possibly give to justify that?"

Severus thought briefly of lying, but only briefly. It was in that moment he acknowledged what he had deliberately avoided since touching the blisters that marred Narcissa's porcelain skin. He had no intention of allowing Lucius Malfoy to live. The wizard was simply too dangerous.

Rose had almost died fighting the basilisk the year prior. Lucius had been indirectly responsible for its awakening when he had slipped Tom Riddle's diary into Ronald Weasley's books. While there was no possible way for Malfoy to know how close Voldemort had actually come to returning to power, Severus placed the blame solely with him. For that reason alone the man deserved death.

Black had never truly been necessary. The wizard was his insurance, nothing more. If he died confronting Lucius, Sirius would summon the Aurors. Narcissa would hate him for betraying her confidence, but as Black had so eloquently stated, at least she would be alive. And, much as he detested the wizard who had crippled him, he trusted him to care for Rose as if she were his own.

Confident of the final outcome, Severus allowed himself a sneer. "When the Dark Lord returns, I shall make no excuses. I expect to send him straight back to hell."

Lucius pulled his wand from his cane so quickly that Severus scarcely had time to cast a Shield Charm before the Death-Eater's first attack. The flash of red bounced off his shield to blast a hole in the opposite wall. He ignored the collateral damage to cast a stunner towards Malfoy. The older man blocked it easily, but barely missed the Reductor Curse that immediately followed.

Lucius' eyes narrowed in anger as he answered with a curse of his own. Snape was forced to jump out of the way. Nimbly, he pulled off his cloak before sending three Blasting Curses hurtling towards his target. Blocked, they destroyed the main chandelier in the middle of the ballroom. As he prepared his next spell, Severus wondered what would be left of Malfoy Mansion by the end of the duel.

Almost an hour later, both men were battered and bloodied, but their determination to kill each other never wavered. Malfoy had recently taken to casting Unforgivable after Unforgivable, although Snape hadn't followed his example. He had, however, made ample use of the Cutting Curse as evidenced by the blood rapidly pooling on the floor next to his opponent.

Dodging yet another spell, Severus was unprepared when his left leg simply gave out from under him. Every nerve pulsed in agony as Lucius poured all of his hatred into casting the Cruciatus Curse. As the pain intensified, Snape wished he could simply die, and then he remembered Rose. Somehow, in the midst of his torture, he managed to shakily raise his wand.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

The Potions Master lay panting on the floor, his vision blurred. His nerves jangled, as if he had been jolted by a massive electrical shock. He thought he screamed, but no sound came from his mouth. Teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, he feared he had retreated into insanity until he felt a reassuring pressure on his shoulder.

"Snape, can you hear me?"

Black. Of course, it all made sense. No, no it didn't. He couldn't think straight, couldn't concentrate. His whole body had felt like it had been on fire, and then, it had . . . ended? Why?

"Damn it, Snape, I know you can hear me. It's over. Malfoy's dead. Rose and Narcissa are safe. You can't give up now! Severus, answer me!"

Groaning, he opened his eyes.

"Don't call me Severus."

In spite of the carnage around him, Black let out a jubilant shout. "Merlin, Snape! I thought I was too late. How are you feeling?"

Severus dismissed the question with an irritable wave. The current state of his health was the least of their concerns.

"Lucius is dead?"

"Don't you remember?"

He tried, but the memory was tied with too much pain. Lucius had cast the Cruciatus when his leg had given out. He had been convinced he was going to die. Somehow, he had managed to point his wand, and then . . . nothing.

"How?"

Black wouldn't meet his eyes. "I used the Killing Curse."

"You cast an Unforgivable."

"Even Fiendfyre couldn't destroy those damn manacles. I was heading upstairs to tell you when I heard you scream."

He had been screaming. No wonder his throat hurt. He struggled to sit, begrudgingly accepting assistance when it became obvious his body was still too weak to manage on his own.

Leaning up against one of the more intact walls, he contemplated the problem of Lucius Malfoy. Dead, he was little more than a nuisance. Narcissa was finally free. Rose was far safer in a world where he was no more. Lucius' body could rot in the destroyed ballroom for all he cared.

And, then he glanced at Black, who sat staring miserably out an open window, his earlier euphoria disappeared. The insufferable wizard had saved his life once more. Had Malfoy succeeded in killing him, Black could have easily claimed custody of Rose. Now, he faced a return to Azkaban. There was only one conclusion Snape could draw from that, which made his next question so important.

"What else did you find with the manacles?"

Sirius gave him a funny look. "A few books I didn't dare crack open, a knife so Dark I could sense malevolence dripping from the blade, a shrunken head that I swear winked at me and a human fetus preserved in a glass jar." Pointedly, he added, "Nothing the aurors can't handle."

"Was it a knapped blade?"

Again, Black gave him a strange look. "Yes, made of obsidian. The handle was jade, carved into the figure of a jaguar. Why?"

"Narcissa mentioned Lucius had gone to Mexico to search for an Aztec sacrificial knife. I believe we can put it to good use. We can stage the room in such a way that the Aurors will never suspect foul play. They will merely believe that Lucius was a victim to his obsession with the Dark Arts."

His suggestion was met with unbridled shock. "You'd do that?"

If he hadn't been so drained, Snape would have laughed at the irony. He and Black were too damn alike. The other man might have once called him a hero, but he had no expectations that Severus would save him.

"I wouldn't send a dog to Azkaban, much less the wizard who saved my life—again."

"Even a rabid one?"

Stretching out his bad leg, he looked to the ceiling. Not a chandelier remained intact.

"You did something you regret. Regret is something I understand very well."

"Severus, I—"

He interrupted before Black could possibly grow mawkish. Just because he'd forgiven the mutt did not mean they had to be pals.

"You'll have to lose your wand. _Prior Incantato_ would reveal that you had used an Unforgivable. Rose would not enjoy visiting her godfather in Azkaban."

Black jumped to his feet, his earlier melancholy replaced by more than a hint of mania.

"I was planning a visit to Olivander's anyway. Oh yes! This can work! We'll have to burn the body and cast a few more Blasting Curses so it looks more like an explosion rather than a duel. I'm afraid Narcissa will have to be the one to discover the body and call the Aurors, but I'm certain . . . ."

As Black droned on, Severus closed his eyes. His body still suffered the aftereffects of the Cruciatus, and the urge to rest was simply too great. He woke to the smell of burnt roast. Opening his eyes, it was all he could do not to gag. Lucius' body was shriveled and blackened; only his hair remained oddly untouched.

Painfully, he rose to his feet. Sirius watched uneasily as he was forced to grip the chair rail for support, but he didn't offer his assistance, for which Severus was grateful. Though he longed for his cane, he managed to limp close enough to examine the scene.

The obsidian blade of the sacrificial knife glittered next to Lucius in the dim light. Severus stared at it, entranced. What history might such an artifact impart? The Aztec priests had been powerful sorcerers, yet Muggle soldiers had succeeded in wiping them out. There was a lesson to be learned there, but it was the appeal of the blade which was so difficult to ignore. He could feel its latent potency calling for a master after so many years. In the right hands, such power could be magnificent.

Sirius unexpectedly clapped him on the back, and it took all his coordination to remain upright.

"Don't know about you, but I'll be eating vegetarian for a while."

He blinked, trying to recall why that comment made his stomach roil. Lucius. His eyes flicked downwards again to rest on the knife. Before it could captivate him once more, Sirius put his arm around his shoulder and turned him towards what was left of the doorway.

"Let's get out of here, Snape. I can feel that damn knife calling to me. Can't imagine the effect it's having on you."

In his exhausted state, Severus thought that a brilliant idea.

* * *

><p>"If he weren't dead, I'd kill him again."<p>

Pressing two fingers to Narcissa's neck, Severus checked her pulse. It was reassuringly steady, though he could understand her cousin's reaction to seeing her for the first time in over a decade.

"The Sleeping Potion I gave her won't wear off for several hours yet. If you are willing, I believe I have a way to spare her a rather lengthy interrogation session with the Aurors. She should not have to answer for Malfoy's contraband. "

"Anything."

"Use the floo in my room to return to Malfoy Manor and put her to bed. Then return to Hogwarts and inform Shacklebolt that your nephew is beside himself with worry. Draco has attempted to contact his parents repeatedly since the early evening, and is convinced that something is horribly wrong. When you and Shacklebolt discover that Lucius drugged his wife before attempting a horribly Dark spell, the Aurors will take her to St. Mungo's as a matter of course. Once the healers discover the extent of her abuse, there will be no question that Lucius was the only practitioner of the Dark Arts in the house."

As he spoke, he examined Narcissa's wrists. Many of the blisters had ruptured, oozing noxious, yellow pus. It would take weeks, if not months, for such serious magical wounds to heal. But, the spell had been broken before the damage could progress any further. In that, she was very lucky. He could only hope she could forgive him for exposing her abuse to the Ministry. If Kingsley Shacklebolt was as honorable as he believed, however, it would not become public knowledge.

"What about the boy, Draco?"

"By the time you return, he will know to treat you like a beloved uncle."

"Not that," he responded brusquely. "Will the Aurors have any reason to suspect him of following in his father's footsteps?"

The sudden burst of guilt immobilized him. He had misjudged Draco Malfoy as badly as he had Rose Potter. The child had been correct; he should have seen what was hiding under his very nose.

"Snape? You really should be in St. Mungo's yourself."

"I'm fine," he ground out by force of habit rather than conviction. "Merely considering your question. While Draco has been raised to be a Malfoy, he is not his father. I'm certain he will have little difficulty answering the Aurors' questions."

"I hope you're right."

Wearily, Severus thought they could all use a little hope.

* * *

><p>"Severus Snape! Where have you been? Rose has been worried si—Oh my stars! Poppy! He's been injured, Poppy!"<p>

It was a testament to his fatigue that he allowed a very flustered Minerva McGonagall to push him down onto one of the infirmary beds. Perhaps he should have taken the time to change clothes before leaving his quarters, though his Slytherins hadn't commented on his obvious injuries or the blood on his garments when he had appeared in the Common Room. When his friend began to unbutton his torn, blood-stained shirt, however, he irritably batted her hand away.

"I am fine. It appears to be worse than it is."

It was the wrong thing to say, especially with Madame Pomfrey now at McGonagall's side. He didn't know which was worse, Minerva's anxiety masking as anger or Poppy's choked-back tears. But, he was very thankful that neither knew he had been Cruciated; he couldn't have endured their reactions to that.

"Don't you dare tell me you're fine! I can see the slashes on your chest and face!"

Minerva paled abruptly as she realized what she had said, and Snape brusquely ordered her to sit. The stern Gryffindor looked as if she might be sick.

"Albus said you had gone after Remus. Those aren't . . . he didn't . . . ."

Madame Pomfrey gasped as she applied the Essence of Ditany to his deeper cuts, but quickly regained her composure. Even as Severus opened his mouth to allay Minerva's fears, the school matron ignored him to speak directly to McGonagall.

"No, Minerva, these wounds aren't from a werewolf, though I dare say he encountered something rather fierce in the Forbidden Forest. What was the Headmaster thinking, sending him after Professor Lupin when Rose told me he was barely strong enough to cast his Patronus? I know how much he relies on Severus, but Albus shouldn't push him like this. Mark my words; he'll drive that boy into an early grave if he's not more careful."

The last remark was more than Snape could take. "If I may," he bluntly interrupted. "I wish to speak to Rose."

Poppy comfortingly patted him on the shoulder as she continued to treat his visible injuries. "She'll be right as rain in no time, Severus. She's sleeping right now. After what she's been through, I think it's for the best."

Defeated, he allowed the two witches to fuss over him until Poppy suggested he take a Sleeping Draught. At that, he curtly ordered both away, although he made no move to leave. For once, he wished to be the first person Rose saw when she woke.

He slept in fits and starts for most of the morning, waking several times to nightmares too vague to remember once he had opened his eyes. Towards noon, he noticed that Hermione Granger had regained consciousness. Owing the young witch a heartfelt apology, he pulled up a chair next to her bed. She smiled brightly when she saw him approach.

"Professor Snape. It's good to see you. Everyone's been so worried."

"It is I who am relieved to see you, Miss Granger. The Headmaster informed me that you were injured by the Whomping Willow. I must beg your forgiveness. I should have sent you back to the castle with the Weasleys."

"Nonsense," she replied with the confidence of a witch thrice her age. "What happened wasn't in any way your fault. And, I'm certain Professor Lupin must feel terrible about everything. I suspected he was a werewolf, you know. He showed all the classic symptoms. It's a shame he was so upset about Rose's disappearance that he forgot to take his potion."

"Who told you that?" he demanded. He refused to let anyone blame Lupin's recklessness on Rose. She had more than enough misplaced guilt already. When Hermione bit her lip at his sharp tone, he immediately apologized.

"That's okay, Professor. I know how worried you've been about Rose. Professor Dumbledore told me last night that Professor Lupin had been so anxious about Rose's kidnapping that he completely forgot to take his usual dose of Wolfsbane Potion. He didn't mean to turn into a werewolf last night."

"Of course he didn't," he remarked, but his sarcasm flew over her head. Standing, he bid her a speedy recovery.

"Professor Snape, wait."

Turning, he wondered what else the Granger girl could possibly want with him. Then, he saw Rose's charm bracelet held in her outstretched hand.

"I think you ought to be the one to return this to her, don't you?"

She truly was an insightful young witch. Smiling briefly, he pocketed the charm bracelet. "Thank you, Miss Granger. I am heartened to know that Rose has such a thoughtful friend."

* * *

><p>"Ah, Severus, you seem to spend as much time in the Hospital Wing this year as you do your own quarters. Miss Potter is doing well, I assume?"<p>

Groggily, the Potions Master sat up. He should not have let Poppy talk him into taking a nap. The black windows told him that he had slept far longer than he had intended, as did his stomach.

"Madame Pomfrey does not expect Rose to wake until late tomorrow, Albus, but she will make a full recovery."

"And, you, my boy? Minerva told me that you looked a little rough this morning."

He arched an eyebrow at Dumbledore's obvious understatement. From her earlier reaction, he was certain McGonagall had delivered a blistering tirade on the state of his health. The older wizard actually cracked a smile at his expression.

"Perhaps she conveyed her concern rather more forcefully. How are your injuries?"

"All but healed," he answered dismissively. "I can teach the morning's Defense classes if you are in need of a substitute."

"So, you heard, then?"

"That Lupin was sacked? There has been talk of little else."

"It is regrettable, but best for all involved. The Board of Governor's was very understanding, especially they were assured that no one was injured by Professor Lupin's episode."

Severus clenched his jaw. As much as he wanted to object to the Headmaster's choice of words, there were more important issues he wished to discuss.

"I imagine the Board was in turmoil once Lucius' death became known."

The unusually subdued wizard gazed at him appraisingly. "I must say I am impressed. I had thought that information remained confidential to all but a few."

He met the Headmaster's stare nonchalantly. "Black visited briefly this afternoon to see how Rose fared. He confided in me the true circumstances of Lucius' death. And, Minerva informed me that Draco had left in the care of his aunt, Andromeda Tonks. I intend to pay my respects to Narcissa as soon as Rose is well enough to resume her studies."

Dumbledore blinked, obviously taken aback. "That's very admirable of you, Severus. Such a strategy may be of long-term benefit. We may be able to work the situation to our advantage once Voldemort returns to power."

The former spy was more than willing to allow the Headmaster his delusions. If Albus cared to believe his concern for Narcissa was merely a strategy, then so much the better. He intended to keep his private life private, especially from such a manipulative, powerful wizard. Besides, he had a bigger axe to grind.

"At the moment, I am more concerned with the freedom of Marcus Flint than I am the return of the Dark Lord. Surely, he was responsible for the attacks on Rose on the Quidditch pitch and the Forbidden Forest and the killing of Helena Gamp's familiar. I don't understand why the Aurors haven't arrested him. There were certainly enough milling about early this morning."

"Although Mr. Flint has confessed to being the attacker in the Forbidden Forest and killing Miss Gamp's familiar, he claims he was Imperiused by Lucius Malfoy. Since the accused is dead, it is impossible to prove one way or the other. I have allowed him to withdraw from the school in lieu of pressing charges."

"He was no more Imperiused by Lucius than Lucius was by the Dark Lord. Surely his use of the Cutting Curse against Draco proves that. I doubt Lucius would have ordered the brute to kill his own son."

"Alas, we shall never know." Pulling a sweet out of a pocket in his gray robes, he offered it to Snape. When the Potions Master declined, Dumbledore popped it into his mouth before continuing. "However, I don't think you need worry about Mr. Flint for the immediate future. He has taken a position with a Brazilian Quidditch team."

"Why didn't he confess to stunning Rose during the Quidditch match if he was so confident of the Imperius Defense?"

The Headmaster's eyes sparkled animatedly behind his half-moon spectacles, and Severus realized that he had missed something important. Wracking his brain, he couldn't come up with an alternate explanation.

"Tell me, Albus. We both know Parkinson doesn't have the talent necessary to stun Rose five times during free-fall in a driving storm."

"She was, however, responsible. Her jealousy of Rose was such that she enlisted the aid of her friends, although she refused to give me specific names. They had all agreed to attempt to stun Rose at some point during the match, and the fall seemed like the perfect opportunity. It wasn't a single person who so gravely injured Miss Potter, but five different witches. I suppose we should be thankful that Miss Parkinson does not have more friends."

The thought chilled him. He could only hope that the girls responsible did not understand how dangerous combining Stunning Spells could be. His thoughts then turned to Helena Gamp. Standing up for her beliefs in such an atmosphere must have made her life in Slytherin a living hell. Narcissa was right; she was better off at Beauxbatons.

"Perhaps I should resign as Head of House. I can only blame myself for allowing such an environment to flourish while I was preoccupied with my recovery."

"Nonsense, my boy. Cliques can occur in any of the Houses. You have done an admirable job with your students for many years, and I am sure you will continue to do so."

"Yes, Headmaster. I trust that Miss Parkinson, at least, will be suitably punished?"

"I have taken two hundred points from Slytherin for her actions and she is to serve detention with Professor Sprout for the rest of the term. I'm afraid you won't be winning the House Cup again this year."

Severus nodded to show he understood. He couldn't manage a coherent reply. Pansy Parkinson would be working in the greenhouses with Pomona as her punishment. Personally, he'd have expelled her, but he suspected Dumbledore had given her a lenient sentence in return for her silence. Immobilized, the spiteful Slytherin must have been terrified when Lupin had transformed into a werewolf.

Albus watched him watch Rose for a few minutes before gently patting him on the back and taking his leave. Quiet returned to the infirmary, but he knew in his agitated state that sleep would elude him. He opened the Potions journal he had attempted to read on Friday evening once more.

In the middle of an essay about the ethics of collecting rare Potions ingredients, it struck him. Two nights ago, he had been reading the exact same periodical. He had feared that Black would attempt to steal Rose away when in reality the wizard had done everything in his power to keep them together. He'd no idea that he would be sitting another bedside vigil in the Hospital Wing, waiting for her to wake. Nor did he have the slightest inkling that he would be forced to face his greatest childhood fear in a manner more terrifying than before. And, if anyone had suggested two days ago that he would play a part in Lucius Malfoy's death, he would have sent them packing to St. Mungo's.

Two days. He glanced over at Rose. So much had occurred and yet nothing had really changed. Though her luck held, the Girl-Who-Lived continued to be the Girl-Who-Almost-Died. Frankly, he would be overjoyed if she could finish out the term without another trip to the Hospital Wing.

A cold shiver unexpectedly slithered down his spine. She wasn't simply the Girl-Who-Lived. She was the Chosen One, their only hope that the Dark Lord would one day be truly defeated. Albus had divulged the rest of the prophecy the day Lily had died. _And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives_. No matter how hard he tried, in the end, it might not be enough to save her.

He tossed the journal aside. He might be a gifted Potions Master, but he understood now that his life's work was her. He would give her every advantage, teach her every spell that might be useful in defeating the Dark Lord. And, for as long as he could, he would treat her like the child she had every right to be. Tomorrow, he would purchase tickets for the Quidditch World Cup, top row. There was no point in hoarding galleons when the future was so uncertain.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes<strong> – Apologies for the time it took to wrestle this chapter into some semblance of order. It really did run in twenty different directions. Like Rowling, I intend to end my story with the end of the school year, so there will be at least one more chapter to wrap up a few more loose ends. It might seem like a silly question, but is anyone interested in a sequel?

A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I can't believe the positive responses I've received or the thoughtful questions. People continue to discover this story, and I am grateful that most seem to be enjoying it.

Just a few notes about the events in the Malfoy ballroom. Yes, I left it intentionally vague as to who actually killed Lucius. I know the answer, but for now you'll have to decide for yourself. As for the Fiendfyre not being able to destroy the manacles, I decided that a five hundred year old Dark object that had been used perhaps a thousand times might have enough residual power to resist even something as potent as Fiendfyre. Considering that Fiendfyre easily destroyed a Horcrux, you might disagree. Hope you enjoyed reading!


	39. Going Home

Scowling, Severus Snape pinched the bridge of his nose as he read Luna Lovegood's essay on the uses of frozen Ashwinder Eggs. While she had correctly described their use in love potions and as a cure for ague, he could only shake his head as she went on to state that the eggs were instrumental in containing an army of Heliopaths controlled by the Ministry.

He truly could not decide whether to be amused by her inventiveness or appalled that her father had succeeded in stuffing his outlandish theories into her impressionable head. Mechanically, he scratched through the last part of her answer with red ink. Before he could decide how to grade such a ridiculous answer, someone knocked on his office door.

"Come."

A pleased smile softened his scowl as he looked up to see Rose walking into his office. When she mindlessly tugged on her charm bracelet, though, he wondered what was wrong.

"What is troubling you, Rose?"

The young Gryffindor's eyes widened. "How do you do that? Are you reading my mind or something?"

Now was not the time to discuss the reality of Legilimency, so he merely smirked and stared pointedly at her wrist. "Nothing so extraordinary. You should be thankful that I put an Anti-Breaking Charm on the clasp when I had your bracelet repaired."

Self-consciously, she put her hands down at her sides. "Oh. Yeah. I don't want to lose it again."

She took a shaky breath, and he steeled himself for the worst.

"Do you believe in angels?"

Of all the things she could have said, he had not expected that.

"Rose, I hardly believe in a deity, much less heavenly messengers. Why do you ask?"

Her fingers anxiously moved to her bracelet, but then she caught herself. Obviously agitated, she paced instead.

"I just thought they might be real, like ghosts. That night . . . after you took Pansy and me out of the Shrieking Shack, I could hardly breathe, everything hurt so much. And, then I saw this bright light and I couldn't feel any more pain, and I thought my mum sang me to sleep. It seemed so real, Professor. She has such a pretty voice, not anything like mine. And, she smiled at me. I thought . . . I thought an angel had taken me to see her."

He didn't know what to say. He had made no attempt to rationalize Lily's appearances over the past year. In the end, he had chosen to simply accept them. Whether a figment of his own imagination or something much more sublime, his dreams of the "real" Lily had given him much needed hope.

"While I cannot confirm the existence of angels, Rose, that does not mean they are not real. There are many things, even in the Wizarding world, which defy explanation. However, I remember fondly your mother's voice. She didn't sing often, but when she did, it was beautiful. I have no doubt that whatever you experienced that night, your mother's love was at the heart of it."

"It's nice to have a good memory of her."

I imagine it is," he answered thoughtfully.

He had very few positive memories of his mother. Eileen had never been strong enough to protect him from Tobias. He had never known her as the studious, quiet witch her contemporaries had described from their school days.

Unexpectedly, Rose gripped him in a fierce hug. "Thanks, Professor."

"For what?"

"For taking me away from the Dursleys. Usually, I'm dreading summer holidays by now."

His acerbic wit deserted him as he returned her hug. He wanted nothing more than to deflect her heartfelt gratitude with a self-deprecating joke, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. The very thought of the child standing before him spending her summer belittled and abused brought a painful lump to his throat.

"You are welcome, Rose. Though I wish I had thought to investigate your home life much earlier. I allowed old prejudices to blind me to the truth, and for that, I am sorry."

"Why did you visit Privet Drive that night?"

He remembered the child asking a similar question shortly after her attack, before Albus had taken it upon himself to Obliviate her memory. He had told her the truth then, and he owed her no less now.

"Would you think me mad if I said your mother visited me in a dream?"

There was a flash of triumph in her eyes. "So you do believe in angels!"

He smiled in spite of himself. "Perhaps I believe in one particular angel, Rose. Your mother was a remarkable witch. Now, don't you have finals to study for?"

"Oh, yeah," she remarked with much less enthusiasm. "Ron and I are going to study Divination together. No offense, Professor, but it seems like a load of rubbish."

"Much of what Sybil Trelawny teaches is rubbish. Why anyone would wish to take that class is beyond my understanding."

"Well, I thought it would be fun until she kept predicting I would die. Now, Ron and I play this game to see who can outdo each other in making up outlandish predictions. We've noticed the tragic ones earn the higher marks."

He schooled his features into a neutral mask lest he erupt into a fit of laughter. "Miss Potter, as a professor at this school, I am appalled at such an admission. However, as your guardian, I take offense that anyone would dare predict your demise. If you do not wish to take the course next year, I've no objections."

"Really? I'll think about it. I mean, it's completely a waste of time, but I'm not sure I'd want to take Arithmancy or Ancient Runes in its place."

"I still expect you to do well on your final examination."

His remark earned him an eye roll. "Yes, Professor. I'd better go. I told Hermione that I'd quiz her on Potions ingredients after Ron and I do some brainstorming, not that she needs the extra practice.

Snape watched indulgently as she ran out the door. Angels indeed—Rose had certainly come up with an imaginative way to explain her mother's presence that night. Though, it made as much sense as believing that Lily had visited his dreams from beyond the grave.

Picking up Luna Lovegood's essay, he quickly spelled the red ink to disappear. In the margin he wrote: _A very thorough description of the use of frozen Ashwinder eggs. Outstanding effort. _

Upon further consideration, who was he to belittle her beliefs?

* * *

><p>A bouquet of spring flowers clutched in his right hand, Severus Snape approached the Welcome Witch at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He hated the necessity of announcing his visit, but the Dark Arts recovery ward was a restricted access ward for the safety of patients, Healers and visitors alike. It was also constantly monitored, which would make conversation difficult, but he didn't care. All he could think about was the hurt look on Narcissa's face when he had given her the Sleeping Draught.<p>

"I am here to see Narcissa Malfoy," he announced tonelessly after the harried witch snapped an insincere greeting.

Suddenly, he had the woman's full attention. Her mouth gaped and her eyes bugged out unattractively like a fish. "Why would anyone want to see the likes of her? As bad as her husband from what I've read. Pity she survived whatever unholy ritual they planned to perform."

The witch had all but shouted, and several patients awaiting treatment eagerly leaned closer to better follow the exchange. Seething, Snape deliberately leaned over the counter so the outraged receptionist could read the fury in his eyes. In low, deliberate tones, he repeated his request.

"Narcissa Malfoy is a patient in this hospital, and it is not for you or anyone else to judge her worthiness. If you do not immediately call for a Healer to escort me to her room, I shall take great pleasure in reporting your woeful lack of discretion to your supervisor."

The infuriating witch began to sputter protests while Snape fought the urge to hex her. Before he could completely lose his temper, a familiar voice called out.

"Professor Snape! Everything alright? I wasn't expecting to see you until July."

Turning, Severus relaxed as he greeted Healer Wellby. "I am well, Mark, merely visiting a friend." Then, with a scowl, he amended, "Attempting to visit a friend. I'm afraid hospitality is nonexistent in this hospital."

"Now, see here," the insulted witch began, only to have both men ignore her.

The young wizard dressed in lime green robes smiled. "Allow me to escort you. I was on my way to see Mrs. Malfoy anyway."

"Indeed."

Warily, Severus allowed Wellby to lead him to the elevators. As soon as they had stepped inside, however, he demanded an explanation.

"How did you know it was Narcissa Malfoy I wished to see?"

"The flowers."

Severus looked down. Of course, the flowers—he held a bouquet of yellow narcissuses in his hand.

"They're her favorite," he responded a tad bit defensively.

"They're perfect," the other man agreed. "She could do with some cheering up. Besides her family, she's received no visitors."

"Has she seen the article?"

"Not yet. The Aurors informed her of her husband's death, but we have kept her isolated from outside rumor and gossip. My colleagues and I decided it was better to focus on her physical recovery before burdening her with more emotional trauma. I would ask you to honor our decision, Professor."

"I have no intention of informing Narcissa of the lies Rita Skeeter managed to have published in the _Daily Prophet_."

"Good. I knew I could count on your discretion. If Mrs. Malfoy does not object, you may visit while I make my rounds."

Finally reaching the fourth floor, both wizards stepped off the elevator, Snape limping more than usual as the pain in his left side flared. Wellby eyed him critically, but didn't comment. Severus, for his part, made a conscious effort to walk normally in front of the perceptive wizard. His left side had pained him considerably since his latest exposure to the Cruciatus Curse, and he had no desire to return to his status as patient rather than visitor.

While the Healer recorded their entry into the restricted ward, Severus noticed the man's eyes strayed again to his cane and leg. Hoping to distract Wellby, he asked the first question that popped into his head.

"Why are you her primary Healer? I thought your expertise was with creature-induced injuries."

"Actually, I specialize in injuries and maladies of the nervous system. For all the advances magic has made in the healing arts, we lack the ability to manipulate the brain, spinal cord and peripheral nerves with the precision needed to heal most serious injuries. Your case, happily, was the exception."

Severus grew cold at the explanation. "I did not realize the manacles had affected her mind."

Sympathetically, Wellby placed his hand on the Potions Master's arm. "Only in a purely psychological sense, Professor Snape. Several healers are successfully treating the open sores on her wrist and the broken link between the manacles and her cardiovascular and respiratory systems. However, in cases like this, St. Mungo's has found that it is the patient's overall mental health which ultimately determines the outcome."

Impressed by the young Healer's confidence and obvious proficiency, Snape did not object when he was asked to surrender his wand. His desire to see Narcissa had grown with each troubling revelation, and it was all he could do not to rush into her room as soon as they were past the security doors. Instead, he allowed Wellby to enter first, which gave him a moment to prepare himself for the worst.

Glancing about the room from the hallway, he thought it surprisingly bare. He had expected Narcissa's room to be filled with cards and flowers, but all he could see was a lone magazine lying on her bedside table and a single box of Honeyduke's chocolate. The article in the _Daily Prophet_ must have been far more damaging than he had supposed.

He snuck a glance at the newly made widow while she spoke to the Healer. Her wrists were thickly bandaged and her skin still much too pale. Her lunch plate had not been touched, though he could understand her lack of appetite. He remembered how unpalatable the bland food had been from his own time spent on the first floor. Instead of flowers, he should have brought some of McGonagall's shortbread.

The longer she spoke to the Healer, the more troubled she appeared. Severus had to wonder how much she had confided in the wizard. Though he didn't make an attempt to eavesdrop on their conversation, he couldn't mistake the sound of his name. As soon as it was said, Narcissa nodded eagerly, straining her neck to try to catch a glimpse of him from her bed. Taking that as his cue, he entered with a nervous smile on his face.

"Severus! Oh, thank Merlin! Sirius told me you'd been Cruciated. I've been so worried!"

Wellby's eyes narrowed as he again stared at the Potions Master's cane. Before Narcissa could continue and accidently implicate him in covering up her husband's murder, Severus bent down to kiss her cheek.

"You needn't worry, Narcissa. Pettigrew's torture occurred almost two months ago. I am fully recovered, but I am grateful for your concern."

By the flash of panic in her sapphire eyes, he knew she understood. All at once, she began to ramble. "Pettigrew? Isn't he dead? Sirius killed him. No, that's not right. Sirius was here when I woke up. Lucius is dead. My cousin is innocent and my husband is dead." Soulfully, she looked into his eyes, "And, you must think me a madwoman."

He longed to take her in his arms and properly finish the kiss they had started in his quarters, but he dared not. Instead, he presented her with the bouquet.

"I think nothing of the sort. The potions you are taking undoubtedly leave you confused."

She thoughtfully fingered the cheery, yellow flowers. "They're beautiful, but far more than I deserve."

"The entire room should be filled with flowers."

From the expression on her face, his protest had stunned and gratified her, but she soon lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. He hated the coded conversation they were forced to have. He longed to confess that he was glad Lucius was dead, that he was sorry it had been Sirius who had killed the bastard instead of him, that he had no intention of wasting his second chance, but he could not.

Gently, he pushed her long, silken hair behind her ears. A flush of color rushed to her cheeks at his touch. As they sat motionless, staring deeply into each other's eyes, the lanky young healer politely cleared his throat.

"I have a few more patients to see, but it shouldn't take more than half an hour. Professor Snape, you're welcome to continue your visit, that is, if Mrs. Malfoy does not object?"

Wrenching away her gaze, Narcissa blinked uncertainly at the young wizard. "I have a say?"

"Yes, Mrs. Malfoy," he answered a little sadly. "You are allowed to say if you would like Professor Snape to stay or leave."

"Severus? Is that what you wish? To stay?"

He understood she meant far more than a simple visit, and he hated the timidity in her voice. Such uncertainty was grossly out of character for the strong, confident witch he had known as a young woman. Regrettably, he could sense that her insecurity was all too real. Not caring what Wellby thought of his actions, he tenderly caressed her hand.

"For as long as you'll have me, Narcissa."

Heedless to the flowers, she threw her arms around him, resting her head against his chest. Severus distantly thought that he should have put the blooms in a vase as he soothed her sudden tears.

"I'll, uh, just be going, then. I have to return soon, though, Professor. I'm sure you'll appreciate that it wouldn't do to exhaust the patient."

As Wellby walked out of the room, Snape couldn't suppress a chuckle.

"What?" Narcissa sniffed nervously as she wiped her eyes.

"I believe I have unintentionally disappointed Healer Wellby. Though he doesn't seem to object so long as I do not wear you out."

"Severus!" Shocked, color again rose in her cheeks, temporarily imbuing her with a healthy glow. "I'm sure he didn't mean it in that way, did he?"

Abruptly, she grinned, laughing along with him until she noticed the jonquils strewn upon the floor. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to see me."

Smirking, he raised his eyebrows. "Just how confused have those potions made you?"

She flushed in embarrassment, but soon understood he teased her. "Severus Snape, I have never known you to be so cheeky!"

He stroked her back, more content than he had felt in years. "Anything to bring a little color to your face. You're still far too pale. How are you feeling?"

"Safe," she finally admitted. "For the first time in many years, I feel safe. Sirius and Andromeda have been very patient with me. I'm worried about Draco, though. I don't know what those lies printed in the _Prophet_ will do to him."

"Your Healers are under the impression you haven't seen the _Daily Prophet_."

"It was deliberately left next to my breakfast tray yesterday. Not everyone in St. Mungo's is as considerate as Healer Wellby."

"I am sorry, Narcissa."

She stared at the bandages on her wrists. "It is better than the truth."

"Is it?"

"I would rather be reviled than pitied. Besides, my friends will not believe such nonsense. Will they?"

Considering the lack of cards and flowers in her room, he very much feared they had. However, he refused to share such negative thoughts. "They shouldn't, and if they do, they were never truly your friends."

"But, you know not to believe such lies. Don't you, Severus?"

He hated what that fiend had done to her. Considering her self-doubt, he was amazed that she had managed to leave Lucius in the first place. And then he remembered; her actions had been spurred by the sure expectation of death, not the self-assurance necessary for living.

"I will always be your friend, Narcissa."

She looked away, and he wondered for a moment if he had said something to upset her. Then, with a hint of sultry confidence, she brushed her lips across his cheek to whisper in his ear.

"Merely friends? You desire nothing more?"

A surge of longing almost made him moan aloud. "Now who's being cheeky?" he managed to rasp as he forced himself to recall exactly where they were.

The pale witch's assertiveness abruptly crumbled. Dismayed, he realized he had been the cause. She had mistaken his witticism for rejection. Wandlessly, he summoned the scattered jonquils into his hand.

"Narcissa, look at me, please."

Reluctantly, she did so. The hurt in her eyes was as painful as a slap to his face. He took a moment to compose himself before gently pressing the bouquet into her hands.

"I should not have made light of something so important. Never merely, and so much more."

She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Perhaps I am truly mad. Suddenly, I doubt everything I know to be true."

"Only because you were forced to live a lie for so long. Your confidence will return."

Hesitantly, she reached out to touch his cheek. "You are so beautiful, Severus."

His immediate inclination was to scoff. With his beak of a nose and greasy hair, he knew he was not a handsome man. The faint traces of the Dark Mark still visible on his arm often persuaded him that he was not a good man. However, the near reverence in her voice convinced him that she saw him unlike any other. He could not bring himself to belittle her beliefs. Instead, he kissed her palm.

"Only to you, I'm afraid."

Her earlier flash of self-assurance returned with a triumphal smirk. "Good. I won't have to compete for your affection."

This time, he knew exactly how to answer.

"Never."

* * *

><p>Standing in the middle of the Common Room, Severus Snape ruthlessly surveyed his Slytherins. Some, like Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode, stared sullenly at the floor. Others, like the Greengrass sisters, were nervous and glum. Mr. Harper embodied the attitude of most of the boys; he watched his Head of House warily, his arms crossed in front of him. Draco stood alone to the side, glaring at anyone who dared look his way.<p>

"I would like to commend you for another year well done. That is, regrettably, impossible. It would be an insult to Helena Gamp to praise you for your behavior."

Before anyone could react, he turned to his prefects.

"Mr. Bole, please tell me the current number of House points contained in the Slytherin hourglass?"

The quiet sixth year dutifully glanced at a sheaf of notes, though everyone was well aware of the dismal total.

"Thirty-two, sir."

"Quite. I believe that is a record, though not one about which I would wish to brag."

Deliberately, his eyes came to rest on his least favorite third year. Pansy Parkinson's hands were covered in painful, red boils. She had unfortunately run across a bubotuber while weeding one of the greenhouses. Not knowing what it was, she had pulled it out of the ground with her bare hands. He would have to thank Pomona for that later.

"Miss Parkinson, remind me of the number of House points you have personally lost in the last three weeks."

The girl glowered at him with enough raw hatred to set a bush ablaze. Luckily, there were none present in the Common Room.

"Three hundred."

"That's quite a feat, Miss Parkinson. I believe we would all like to hear how you managed it."

There had been enough rumor and gossip flying through the school, and he was sick of it. Not everyone knew what Pansy had done to deserve such punishment, and those who did only had her twisted version of the truth. He was determined to set the record straight, and make a point while doing it.

"Fine," she spat, not at all ashamed that her actions had affected the entire House. "Professor Dumbledore took away two hundred points because I played a few pranks on Rose Potter. And, you took one hundred points after I told Draco that I thought his father should have gone ahead and sacrificed him."

Everyone turned to stare at Draco, who angrily scowled back. With a disapproving frown, Snape quickly brought their attention back to Pansy.

"I take it from your tone that you believe these penalties to be unfair?"

She walked right into his trap. "Unfair? Of course they're unfair! So I stunned Potter when she fell from her broom. The dementors put her in the Hosptial Wing, not me! Helena had no right to scold me for it. If she hadn't threatened to tell you, we wouldn't have hexed her! And, Potter attacked me in that room underneath the Whomping Willow. It's not my fault she got hurt when the ceiling collapsed! As for Draco, he's pathetic. He used to be able to take a little joke."

His tone dangerously silky, he demanded, "And, what do you believe the punishment should be for killing a student?"

"That was Flint," she shouted indignantly. "I had nothing to do with his attack in the Forbidden Forest. Besides, he missed everyone except Draco."

"I will ask again, Miss Parkinson. What is a fair punishment for killing a student?"

Bemused, she answered without thought. "Azkaban."

"Mr. Bletchley, you have just finished your N.E.W.T. in Charms. Explain the effect of multiple Stunning Spells cast simultaneously on the same person."

Miles Bletchley made a face, though he answered readily enough. "The effect is cumulative, sir. The first one would knock a person senseless, but successive spells cause greater injury."

"And what is your opinion as to the damage inflicted if five such spells should hit their target at once?"

"Five, Professor Snape? Professor Flitwick told us that as few as three could stop someone's heart."

Several of the girls gasped, and he knew they finally understood. Even Pansy looked shocked. From the puzzled looks on most of the boys' faces, he guessed they had not been included in the Quidditch "prank".

"Five, Mr. Bletchley, is the number of stunners which hit Rose Potter as she fell from her broom. If the Potion of Last Resort had not been successful, she would have died."

"But it wasn't just me!"

His gaze calmly swept the room as he mentally took note of the girls who now refused to meet his stare.

"The Headmaster is aware of that, Miss Parkinson, which is why you are not currently in Azkaban. I can only hope that you acted out of ignorance rather than real malice, but let me assure you, such a defense will not work a second time. Should you arrange a similar prank, I will hand you over to the dementors personally. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Professor Snape." This time, her reply was meek and subdued.

"Need I explain further the fairness of your punishment?"

"No, Professor Snape."

"Then, I expect you to learn from your idiocy and return to Hogwarts next term prepared to study. Now, Mr. Zabini, what responsibility do you take for Miss Parkinson's actions?"

The tall third year took immediate offense. "Me? I didn't do anything, Professor."

"Were you aware that Miss Parkinson and her friends were hexing Miss Gamp?"

"Sure, I knew, but I don't go around telling tales. Besides, I thought Malfoy had taken care of it."

"And, when it became clear that Mr. Malfoy had not taken care of it?"

"Wasn't any of my business."

"I see. Tell me, Mr. Zabini, why do you hate dogs?"

"What? I love dogs, Professor. My mum breeds crups."

"And yet, you did nothing to prevent Mr. Flint from slaughtering Miss Gamp's familiar."

Angry and confused mutterings swept the room. Blaise Zabini's reaction was more visceral. "He did WHAT?"

"Marcus Flint slaughtered Helena Gamp's familiar. He then charmed it to look like the stray I had befriended in the mistaken belief it belonged to Rose Potter."

"That piece of shi—!"

"Mr. Zabini!" Severus roared before the boy could complete his sentence. "Watch your language or I will be forced to deduct further points from Slytherin. The sad fact is that almost everyone in this room chose to ignore the torment of a defenseless first year. I hold each and every one of you responsible for what happened to Helena and her familiar."

While most of the younger Slytherins were obviously affected by his argument, Theodore Nott wasn't about to shoulder any responsibility. "But, it was Flint, Professor! You can't actually expect us to stand up to someone like Marcus Flint. Look at what he did to Draco."

Severus spared a glance at the defensive boy, who didn't welcome the sudden attention. He'd returned to school three days prior to take his exams, but he'd been taciturn and withdrawn, not that the Potions Master could blame him. Far too many were willing to believe the rubbish printed in the _Daily Prophet_. He'd been jinxed without warning several times in the hallways, and spent most of his day alone in the dormitory.

"That reminds me," he remarked reflectively. "Two hundred points to Slytherin for Mr. Malfoy's bravery. Might I point out, Mr. Nott, that there is strength in numbers, a lesson I would think this House could put to good use. Draco should not have needed to confront Marcus Flint alone."

"Now, wash up for the Leaving Feast, and be civil to the Ravenclaws when they are awarded the House Cup. You are dismissed."

Leaning against his cane, he watched as the students quickly retreated to their dormitories. He didn't delude himself into thinking his speech would be all that effective in the near term. If even a few of the first and second years took it to heart, however, Slytherin House would benefit greatly in the years to come.

"Professor."

Turning, he stepped towards Draco, but he was forced to stop and clutch his cane as crippling pain seared down his left leg. Biting back a curse, he gritted his teeth together until the spasm subsided enough to function.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

The boy grimaced at his name, and Snape made a mental note to address him as Draco from then on. He knew he had come across as curt, but at that moment he could barely stand.

Gray eyes glued to his cane, Draco didn't answer. Snape wondered what was going through his head, but didn't dare peek. Instead, he lowered himself onto a sturdy, green leather chair. Stretching out his leg, he let out a huff of air.

"My apologies. You wished to speak to me, Draco?"

Still the child stared at his cane, unnerving the older wizard, who feared the boy experienced some sort of flashback. Lucius had utilized an ebony cane much like his, though as an affectation rather than a necessity.

"Draco?"

Startled, he jumped. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you sooner, Professor Snape."

Surreptitiously, Severus cast _Muffliato_ to ensure their conversation stayed private. "You trusted me when it mattered, Draco. And by confronting Flint, you likely saved Rose's life. For that, I am very grateful."

"If I had said something sooner, Mother wouldn't be in St. Mungo's."

The fair-haired child's anguished expression reminded him of his own unhappy childhood. He'd been at Hogwarts when Tobias had finally killed his mother in a drunken rage. He'd experienced the same guilt that the boy felt now. If only he had told someone, his mother might still be alive.

"Draco, what have you been told of your mother's injuries?"

"Sirius told me that those cuffs Father used were Dark and that they hurt her. I could have told him that. When he used them on me, my wrists felt as if they were on fire."

As quickly as a falcon swooping down on its prey, Severus grabbed Draco's left arm. Without a word of explanation, he pushed up the sleeve of the teen's robes and unbuttoned the cuff to his shirt. A thin, red line, visible only if one looked for it, wrapped around his wrist. More gently, Snape checked the right one to discover it mirrored the left.

"Was it only the one time?"

His voice shook with emotion he could barely contain. It was part fury, part outrage, but mostly deep shame that he hadn't taken the time to check Narcissa's son for signs of abuse. The fact that he had assumed Andromeda would have done so herself was no excuse.

"Five, twice during Christmas and three times at Easter. He told Mother to go shopping; she didn't know. I didn't tell her afterwards. Father made her wear them all the time. I didn't want to tell her I knew how much they hurt. She . . . ."

The proud young man finally broke. Crying unabashedly, he wailed, "It's my fault. I should have said! He hurt her, Professor!"

Standing stiffly, Severus put his hand on Draco's shoulder until he had calmed enough to listen. "It is not your fault, only your father's, Draco. The manacles did more than injure her wrists; they hurt her spirit. However, her Healer is confident that she will recover with the support of her family and friends. Narcissa will be appalled to learn that Lucius used them on you, but the damage is entirely physical."

"We don't have to tell her, do we?"

He gazed compassionately into the young man's miserable eyes. "I think you know the answer to that."

"I guess I do. And, thank you, Professor, for making sure he could never hurt her again."

"Draco—"

"No worries, I haven't said anything. I'm just sorry Father made your leg worse."

"You are mistaken. I strained it when Professor Lupin tried to attack Rose."

"Very plausible," he critiqued as he hastily wiped away all traces of his outburst. "I'd better go before anyone sees us talking. I wouldn't want you to be seen speaking to me. It might ruin your reputation."

Snape closed his eyes briefly in exasperation before cancelling the silencing spell. "My reputation was ruined long ago, and only an idiot would believe the lies that woman wrote about you and your mother. You do yourself no favors by isolating yourself from your friends. I expect to see you at the Leaving Feast, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Severus watched him walk up the stairs towards the boy's dormitory, his shoulders hunched. Crabbe and Goyle nearly bowled him over in their rush to leave for dinner. As soon as they noticed him, however, they stopped and followed Draco back upstairs. Snape had to admire their loyalty if not their intelligence.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you can't come with me, Professor? Professor Lupin took the train to Hogwarts. Why can't you take it back?"<p>

Feeding a bit of sausage to Hedwig in his cage, Severus smiled. A year ago, Rose Potter would have been horrified if he had accompanied her on the train from Hogwarts. But, he was no longer merely her professor. He was her guardian, and the closest thing to a parent she had ever known.

"We have discussed this, Rose. You may be starting summer holidays, but mine do not begin for another four days. I will pick you up from the Weasleys' on Saturday.

"Can't I stay with you until you're ready to leave?"

"Students are not allowed—"

"To remain at Hogwarts during the summer. Yeah, Professor Dumbledore's told me that before."

"Molly and Arthur are looking forward to seeing you. They didn't believe me when I wrote that you had grown an inch since Easter."

"It's not that." Looking around, she spotted Ron Weasley walking towards the carriages with Colin Creevey. Her eyes narrowed in anger. "Ron's a prat."

"Oh? What did he do this time?"

"He keeps hexing Draco for no good reason."

Her answer surprised him. "I did not think you would care."

He missed her reaction as she abruptly turned away. "Yeah, well, he just lost his dad, even if his dad was Lucius Malfoy, and his mum's in the hospital. It doesn't really seem fair of Ron to pick on him when he's too upset to fight back."

"What about the _Daily Prophet_?"

"What about it?" she asked as she handed her trunk to Hagrid. "Hermione said that article was filled with insinuations and no facts. That Rita Skeeter woman probably made most of it up, at least about Draco and his mum."

"Have you spoken to him?"

He would not betray Narcissa's trust and tell Rose of Lucius' abusive nature. However, as soon as they arrived at Spinner's End, he vowed to tell her of the part Draco had played in protecting her all year. She deserved to know the truth.

She played with her bracelet. "I know how he feels about me, Professor. I'm not defending him because I hope he'll like me. I just don't like to see anyone treated unfairly, even Draco Malfoy. Besides, Ron's my friend, and he should respect my feelings enough to stop, but Hermione and I haven't been able to make him see reason. He even said the Dark Arts was in Malfoy's blood before Hermione told him he sounded like a Slytherin. Um, no offense, Professor."

"None taken. I am sorry, Rose, but you will have to make the best of it. Your godfather is busy at the moment, and the Weasleys were kind enough to offer."

Standing on her tiptoes, she gave him a swift hug. "I will. Fred and George have some secret projects they're working on that they've promised to show me. And, I promised Ginny we'd spend some time together. She gets tired of being the only girl. I'm just ready to be home."

Home, it was strange to think of Spinner's End as home, but he and Rose would be spending the summer there in less than a week.

"So long as these projects do not involve explosives."

Groaning, she rolled her eyes. "Professor! They learned their lesson with the dungbombs. At least, I think they did." With a mischievous grin, she grabbed Hedwig's cage and ran towards the awaiting carriages before he could reply.

"See you soon, Professor! I can't wait to get home! It's going to be brilliant!"

Leaning against his cane, he watched contentedly as the thestrals pulled the coaches filled with students towards Hogsmeade Station. Rose had the right of it. So long as they were together, Spinner's End would be home. And, the summer was going to be brilliant.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes<strong> - Wow! Now I know why some of the Harry Potter books are so long. I could have written another 10,000 words on this chapter alone, and it's mainly an epilogue. Since this is from Snape's point of view, I wanted to show him addressing some of the problems in Slytherin. I don't think a good teacher could simply ignore his students' disappointing conduct. And, yes, I let the Ravenclaws win the House Cup. Just because Rose is a Gryffindor, it doesn't mean they should win every year.

A very sincere thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and/or put the story on alerts and favorites. It's even listed in a few communities, which I find astounding. I am grateful a Severus-centric story about a girl Harry ever found an audience. I guess that's the wonders of fanfiction. Yes, I will write a sequel. With the events surrounding the Quidditch World Cup, we all know the summer won't be as brilliant as Severus hopes. No, I don't have a title yet. I could barely think of a title for this chapter let alone a new story.

Hope you enjoyed it! - Imorgen


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